Missing in Action
by jibber59
Summary: How can they be Team 7 when one of them is missing? (ATF Universe) Warning: this story is going to be darker than I usually write. Warnings will be posted for a couple of chapters that are a bit more graphic, but you will be able to skip those sections and still be able follow the story. There will be non-graphic references to violence and to child abuse as well.
1. Chapter 1

"This is going to be a very profitable day for both of us Sanders. Kind of day that proves whoever said crime doesn't pay wasn't doing it right."

"I believe that is one of those references that is unattributable, and as you point out, inaccurate." Ezra smiled as he spoke, and the emotion wasn't entirely insincere. Under different circumstances, he could almost see himself liking their prey this time around.

Joseph Taylor was a bright, well-spoken and extremely erudite man. He had a flair for everything and a passion for the finer things in life, from his brandy to his vintage cars. He played a skilled game of poker and attracted a very interesting selection of female companions. All in all, someone an earlier incarnation of Ezra might have sought out as a colleague.

However, he was also one of the most vile criminals Ezra had ever had the misfortune of dealing with. It wasn't just his manner of earning a living that was counter to societal norms, although that was enough. He traded in everything from counterfeit goods to arms to drugs. He had his grubby fingers into operations for blood diamonds and coltan mining. He – or rather his business fronts – had been indicted in countless locations for chemical and toxic waste dumping.

That was all, sadly, fairly routine criminal activity, even if the volume of the activity was more impressive that most villains. What made Ezra's skin crawl was the personal predilections Taylor had demonstrated. Sadist did not do him justice. While his public appearances included elegant, sophisticated women, in private he had different tastes. Younger, often much younger partners who ended up battered and broken. If there had been bad news in his business life, his evening entertainment rarely survived at all.

This all came to light when Ezra and Nathan made the discovery of his human trafficking sideline, which they had learned about only after spending 3 weeks undercover in an ATF operation designed to finally bring down the top man and not just a smattering of his underlings. 'Eliot Sanders' and 'Neil Jessop' were acting as representatives for foreign interests interested in securing a steady source of weapons for a private war in some undisclosed locale. Taylor really didn't care where as long as he was profiting. And he hoped to extend that profit margin by adding some companions for the new customers.

It was all he could do for Ezra to keep Nathan from making a move then and there. Talking him down when they had left the residence had been a challenge.

_"__There is a much bigger picture to consider."_

_"__He's selling people! What's bigger than that?"_

_"__Well, if I were to allow you to kill him, there with be an inordinate amount of paperwork to be completed, and you know how much that would displease Mr. Larabee. Not to mention the possible consequences to both of our careers."_

_"__Killing him would be satisfying, but not my plan. Yet."_

_"__No, the plan is to ensure there is sufficient evidence to ensure the sleaze is locked away for whatever remains of his life. And, with any luck, to find details of the equally vile individuals who participate on the trade, seek them out, shut them down and if the fates are kind, rescue some of the victims of this activity. Additionally, given how even convicts feel towards those who harm children, if we are able to add child trafficking to his indictments, his time in prison will be considerably more unpleasant than he will experience as nothing more than a common criminal, don't you agree?"_

_Nathan looked slyly at his colleague. "You really do have a devious streak in you, don't you?"_

_"__And you are only taking note of that at this point? I had assumed you to be a far more observant man."_

So while the official assignment hadn't changed, the two ATF men casually shifted focus. Ezra began making a few references to his clients, and how isolated they were from much of the time. Nathan jokingly speculated that being alone was what made them cranky enough to need so many guns. It didn't take long for Taylor to take the bait.

"I have a few items in inventory that might be appreciated by these clients of yours. Quiet a catalogue for you to search through if you think you can pick out what they would want."

Ezra smiled as he sat down in front of the proffered laptop. A moment later he was fighting to keep his stomach from lurching and to keep the true reaction from his face. Some of the 'merchandise' couldn't be more that 12 years old. Young children, boys and girls, looking nothing like what children should in a photo, or anywhere. What made it even more disturbing was the knowledge things were only going to get worse for them, as it had for countless who had been sold before them. If they couldn't bring this bastard down, he was going to save Nathan the trouble of killing him by taking care of the matter himself.

"You have an impressive inventory. I have no doubt this will interest our – clientele."

That had led them to this moment. First stop for the day was the weapons cache. Intensive research had led the ATF to the location, all they need now was to tie Taylor to the supplies. The spot was a vast complex, isolated on the edge of the city. Made up mostly of offloaded truck trailers, stacked side by side, and several levels deep. With Denver's status as a distribution hub, no one gave a second glance to trucks coming in and out of the area, and there were far too many vehicles for a decent monitoring system to be in place. What Taylor didn't know is that the area was now saturated with hidden surveillance equipment to monitor and record all of the action.

For the undercover agents it had become a matter of ensuring nothing went south before they could get the details on the whereabouts of the children. Taylor had not let them out of his sight for the last 36 hours, leaving Ezra and Nathan with no way to inform the others of the change in the end game of the operation. That was the priority as far as both men were concerned, and if the powers that be at ATF had issues with them overstepping their jurisdiction, they would deal with the consequences later. It was likely that the inevitable positive publicity from such an arrest would far outweigh the bending of the rules that was almost a matter of course when Team 7 was involved in an investigation.

Ezra drove his Jag closely behind the van carrying Nathan and Taylor's right-hand man Harrington. The young woman who was doing the driving was easy to follow, but he was fully aware of the fact that, if she'd been so inclined, she could have lost them in a heartbeat. He had read her profile before starting the case and knew her to be a top-ranked racer. Obviously, the money on the wrong side of the law, or possibly the intense adrenaline rush, was more of a draw. He followed her to the storage site and parked next to her at a stack of packing containers. He had hoped to have the chance to communicate with his team while on way to the site, but when Taylor said he'd join Ezra, stating his preference for travelling in style, that plan bit the dust. Ezra had to hope Chris would properly interpret the hints in whatever communication they could offer during the sting. That effort started the minute he got out of his car.

"Surely you cannot mean to tell me you are keeping the human merchandise in such primitive conditions? I can guarantee you my customers will not be pleased if their new acquisitions are in less than ideal condition."

"No, but we've got a couple of samples close by. Learned the hard way they wouldn't survive in these containers. Had to dump 8 bodies into the river up in the mountains. What a waste of money that was."

Not a firm believer in prayer, Ezra nevertheless silently made two requests to the heavens. The first was that those words had been picked up by a microphone, and the second was that Nathan could hold onto his temper. The fact he said samples meant the children likely weren't all nearby, and that was going to prolong this even further.

"We need to check them out to be sure of what we're getting before we close this." Nathan was making a valiant effort to keep his tone civil and try to send his message at the same time.

"Of course. Let's wrap up stage one here and move on."

Fifteen minutes later the gun deal was done, and they were travelling again. Ezra had almost been holding his breath, expecting to see Chris or Buck charging toward them to finalize the bust. It wasn't until he was behind the wheel of his car that he was certain the message had been heard and understood. He could well imagine how thrilled Chris would be at the change in plans. The man really wasn't fond of surprises and would undoubtedly take great pleasure in reminding Ezra of that detail. They'd only been moving for a few minutes when the van pulled to a stop in front of a chain link fence surrounding a storage building. Two large guard dogs stood at the gate, snarling in a convincing manner. They only quieted when Harrington signalled to them.

"They there to keep folks in, or out?" Nathan asked,

"Both." It was the first time Taylor's right-hand man had spoken since the day's dealings had started. Taciturn was far to mild a description for him.

The door opened as the gate was unlocked. Three armed men appeared, lowering their weapons when they saw their boss. "We have some samples for you Mr. Taylor, as ordered."

"Excellent. These gentlemen are likely to become regulars here, so expect to see them in the future." Taylor, Ezra and Nathan stepped inside while the others remained on guard. Taylor led them towards a side entrance, stopping just a few steps away and reaching to unlock what looked to be a closet door.

Ezra kept his shudder hidden. He was relishing the moment he could slap cuffs onto this specimen, fulling intending to enjoy the experience as much as was possible. His brief moment of distraction meant he was completely caught off guard when shriek of sirens and squealing sound of tires filled the air.

"Nobody move!" echoed from a loudspeaker on one of the cars.

"Son of a bitch!" Taylor grabbed for Ezra, spinning him. "How'd the cops get here?"

"You ask me such a question? This is your operation. We didn't even know where we were going!"

The van was suddenly visible at the side door, with Sylvia gunning the engine. Taylor made his decision. "I ain't going down like this – you coming?"

A quick silent communication passed between Nathan and Ezra. Nathan's message was clear. The children were still unaccounted for. There may be a couple here, but it was obvious there were more – somewhere. Taylor might show his two partners in crime, but he would let those kids die before admitting anything to the cops. That was unacceptable. Ezra gave a brief nod to convey his agreement and the three men darted into the waiting van.

It was a rare occasion in a moving vehicle when Ezra didn't want to be fully aware of his surroundings, but this was the exception that proved the rule. Sylvia peeled out of the lot at a speed that sent the three men in the back of the van tumbling to the floor. Nathan slammed into the back door as the other two grabbed for anything that might give them some stability. All were tossed about as she took corners at dizzying speeds that left the van on two wheels. Whatever had been done to the engine was clearly enough to make it all but unstoppable and with a skilled, if somewhat certifiable, driver in control it took very little time until they had left their pursuers in the dust.

"When we are clear, slow down my dear. There is no point in drawing further attention." Taylor turned his attention back to the two men after issuing his order. "Did either of you see what happened to Harrington?"

"As our escape left all of us with our faces firmly embedded on the floor of your vehicle, we were no more able to witness the proceedings than you were."

"Think he got shot Boss. He was face down when I drove past."

Taylor growled angrily at her words. "That is most unfortunate. Harrington and I go back several years. He was more that just an assistant to me."

"As much as we are sorry for your loss, I think we have more pressing concerns at the moment." Ezra was anxious that he and Nathan get what information they could and make a hasty retreat of their own. He had no idea who had been behind the second raid, knowing only that it wasn't his own team. Now the question of who else was after Taylor was definitely complicating an already screwed up assignment.

"Oh, I am aware of the concerns, and I can promise you I have my own. For example," he pulled his gun from his pocket, pointing it squarely at Ezra's face, "just who the hell are you?"

Nathan tried to move forward but was stopped by both the motion of the van and a stern stare from his partner. He settled for voicing his reaction.

"You can't think this was our fault?"

"Can't I? Exactly who else should I be blaming then? I've been using that spot for months with no problems, take you to there and suddenly half the fucking cops in town are on my doorstep. So I repeat – who the hell are you?"

Ezra knew he was going to have to stall as he tried to determine just what this man would need to hear that would satisfy him. Talking was the only weapon at his disposal right now and he couldn't remember a time when he was so grateful for his talent of obfuscation. "There is no need to raise your voice, and the notion that we are responsible for your circumstance is patently ridiculous. Would we have taken refuge in a vehicle driven by a lunatic to escape our colleagues if we were in fact law enforcement?"

"The past weeks tell me you are crazy enough to do just that Sanders – or whatever your name is."

"It would seem far more realistic to consider that one of your minions has elected to inform on you in an effort to extradite himself from an calamitous circumstance. Perhaps one of the troglodytes you had guarding the facility?"

Taylor sneered in a particularly maniacal manner. "My men? My men have all been with me too long for me to have turned like that." He gestured toward Nathan. "You wouldn't suspect your man here of doing that to you, would you?"

"My associate is above reproach." Ezra didn't like the tone this conversation was taking, feeling he was losing control too quickly. His anxiety pumped up a notch when Taylor moved suddenly to be sitting next to Nathan, the gun now pointed at him. "I would give serious consideration to the repercussions of taking any actions against him."

"You aren't exactly in a position to be making demands – are you? As far as I can see, I only need one of you to answer my questions, and you certainly seem to be the one who likes to talk. Can't see any reason to keep your pal around – can you?"

There was no chance to answer before Taylor tugged at the door latch. It took only the blink of an eye for the door to swing open and for Nathan, totally unprepared for the action, to topple from the rapidly moving vehicle onto the highway. Taylor turned back grinning at a horrified Ezra. "Now, let's talk."

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

_tbc_


	2. Chapter 2

"So what are they saying JD?"

There was nothing but muttering under the breath to be heard for a moment then a very frustrated answer. "The mics won't pick it up from this far away. We didn't have anything set up in that area."

Vin leaned forward from the back seat tapping Chris on the shoulder. "Don't worry about them. They'll find a way to let us know what's going on."

The words were barely out of his mouth when the sounds of sirens filled the air. Police cars screeched to a halt in front of the building and several uniformed officers appeared. Buck's attention was focused on the van as it moved quickly from its spot to the side of the building. It seemed only seconds later that it was burning rubber, escaping the area. Buck shifted their car into gear to follow but was boxed in by the arrival of still more police cars. The cops were out and pointing guns at them before anybody could speak.

"Freeze! Don't even think about moving."

Chris was about to reach for his ID when Josiah's hand clamped down on his arm. "Don't Chris. Don't move. These guys are likely to shoot first and ask questions later."

Bringing his hands up, palms out in clear view, Chris shouted out at the same time. "Don't shoot. We are federal agents. Don't shoot."

Nobody inside or outside of the vehicle moved for several seconds. The only sound was the continuing gunfire that had started at the building almost a moment the cops arrived. Even that ended as suddenly as it had begun. Three police cars took off in pursuit of the van. Chris wasn't sure whether he wanted them to catch up to it or not.

"I'm going to reach for my ID." Chris moved his hand very slowly holding the jacket open so that it was obvious he was pulling out nothing more than a wallet. He flipped it open to show the badge and there were several seconds of silence before he heard what he'd been waiting for.

"Okay. Nice and slow. Everybody get out of the car. Keep your hands where we can see them."

While it was hardly their strong suit, all four ATF agents followed the instructions to the letter. The man in charge slowly made his way over and too the ID A moment later he signalled for the guns to be lowered.

"Sorry about that Agent Larabee. I'm Sgt. Manetti. We weren't expecting Feds to be here."

"And we weren't expecting you to be here either. Why weren't we informed you were after Taylor?"

"Was just about to ask you the same question."

The two men stared each other down for a moment before coming to the same conclusion. "Well, somebody screwed up somewhere, but that isn't important right now." Chris spoke first. "You guys still have eyes on the van?"

Manetti turned to look at his men. One shook his head. "Lost them when they hit the highways. Whoever was driving was insane."

"We have two men working a sting on him. Don't know if they are in the van or not."

"Well, they aren't in the building. We just got the clear on that. We have two bad guys dead, one hit and one other in custody, all from outside here."

It was a tough call on whether or not that was good news. He'd seen his men go in the building, so he knew they weren't amoung the dead or injured. But that meant they were in the van. What he had no way of knowing is why. When the bust went down, they should have stayed put. Taking off with Taylor meant one of two things: they were hostages, or they were in way over their heads, with no way to make contact. Neither option was appealing.

Another uniformed officer approached Manetti. "We've got three kids inside. Found them in a closet. Scared shitless."

"Three? No sign of the others?"

"How many should there be?" Vin asked. This must have been what Nathan and Ezra had been talking about. No wonder they were breaking all the rules. Neither was the type to stand by with kids in danger. None of them would.

"We had word on a dozen or more. Thought they'd be here when our informant told us Taylor had customers lined up. Vice has been working the case for ages, but we've never been able to locate his camps. Closest we came was finding this as a transfer point." He turned back to his man. "I don't suppose the kids can help?"

"Help? We can't even coax them out of the closet. They're terrified."

Josiah took several strides toward the building, muttering to himself. "No shit. God knows what they've already been through, then here stuck in a closet with people shooting and a bunch of people dressed like storm troopers trying to talk to them. Don't you guys know subtle?"

Manetti watched in disbelief as the 6' wall of anger walked past and then he turned to Chris. "Subtle? That guy does subtle?"

Shrugging, Chris gave what might pass for a grin. "You'd be surprised."

The glare Josiah cast at the cops inside sent them off to safe ground, and he slowly walked to the open closet door. By the time he was there, he had transformed. His entire face was smiling, and a soft warm chuckle came out his mouth before he spoke. "Well now that little room doesn't look to be a very comfortable spot to be sitting. Floor must be pretty hard in there and I can feel the cold from here. If you want to come out, I've got blankets here, along with something warm to drink, and" he reached into his pocket, "chocolate. Now I just have one bar here, but I know where I can get more."

None of the children moved, although the older girl did look up at him. He winked broadly at her. "Yeah, there is always somebody who finds that the magic word. But you're right to make sure about things first. Now, my name is Josiah and I am a police man." He showed his badge which seem to capture the young boy's attention.

"Is that real?" The voice was almost to soft to be heard.

"Absolutely. Here. I'll put it on the ground so you can check it out for yourself." He set in at the threshold of the door, along with the chocolate bar. Both were picked up and studied for a moment. The younger girl looked to the others and seemed to sense their acceptance. She pushed past them and ran out, almost knocking Josiah back from his squatted stance.

"You're our hero?"

"Well, I guess I'm one of them. Now, let's get you all those blankets." He led the children out to a waiting ambulance. His effort to turn away was defeated by small hands holding tightly to his as the medics began their job. Josiah cast a quick smile at Chris, then sat down on the back of the vehicle.

Manetti stared at the scene. "Seriously? He scares the crap out of me, and I **know** he's on our side."

"The kids know it too." Vin explained. "There is just something about him that kids get in a way that adults don't."

"Yeah, but if I hadn't seen it –" Manetti was cut short by the breathless arrival of a young cop. Chris knew it was bad news before a word was spoken.

"Sir, we have a report of a body found by the side of the highway, about 4 miles from here."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

He didn't think he was ever going to stop tumbling. He was dizzy and confused, but surprisingly not in pain. If he had been able to process a coherent line of thought he would have known that adrenaline and shock were keeping the pain at bay, and that it wouldn't be like that for much longer. But none of that registered. Right now all he could see was the world spinning past his eyes.

Divine providence had been on is his side like it never had before. The fortunes of Team 7 didn't usually come together in a way to turn certain death into a lucky break. Nathan didn't yet understand that a curve in the road had caused Sylvia to slow down some, in keeping with her effort to avoid drawing unwanted attention. Or know that the curve also meant that instead of literally hitting on the road, Nathan avoided the asphalt landing and instead hit on the soft shoulder. Softer still thanks to recent rains.

After what felt like an eternity he slowed and rolled just a few more times before coming to a stop on his back. He stared up at the sky, not quite able to believe he was still alive. Not moving, he began taking inventory. Aside from the dizziness, his head seemed clear. Instinct had taken over, and he'd raised his arms to protect himself as much as possible. That cost was becoming apparent as he tried to lift his right arm and felt the pain start to radiate through. He didn't think either arm was broken, but he was sure they were covered with what would be deep bruising and a lot of pulls and strains. The pain caused by the effort helped to clear his head which was a good thing. The downside of it was that it also made him aware of just how badly hurt he was in other places. His left leg had definitely taken a serious hit at some point. And, despite his best effort to tuck and roll on his landing (that instinct was a wonderful thing) his chest felt like someone was sitting on it. Several someones.

"Son of a bitch!" Trying to sit had been a monumentally stupid idea, and every muscle in him sent that message clearly. He rested his head back, still trying to piece together the last couple of minutes. He immediately wished he hadn't. Where was Ezra? He tried calling out but got no response. With a cautious effort, he made the effort to turn his head with only marginal success. Ezra could be lying on the ground mere feet away, hurt or worse, and he wouldn't be able to tell.

On the other hand, it was every bit as likely Taylor had kept Ezra. He seemed to recall something being said about not needing both of them. The idea that his partner was now the prisoner to that maniac was equally frightening, or maybe more so.

He closed his eyes, focusing to ignore the pain that was going to come from taking a deep breath to be able to call out. "Ezra?" He doubted he would get a response, which was why the sound of voices was such a shock.

"Take it easy friend. Don't try to move. Help is coming."

Nathan opened one eye and felt a wave of relief at the sight of an eager if somewhat terrified looking police officer. The kid looked younger than JD. "My partner?"

"Partner? Is someone else here with you?"

"Maybe. You need to call –" Nathan struggled to supress the cough, knowing the effect it would have on him. "Need to call-"

"Take it easy. We've called an ambulance. There are some close by, so just hang on."

"No – ATF. Call Chris Larabee."

The young cops partner knelt beside him. "You're one of the missing Feds? We just got word on the radio. We were following the van that took off. I'll let your boss know. Hang tough pal. I can hear the sirens."

A few minutes later Nathan was trying to tell the paramedics how to do their jobs when Chris and Buck appeared at his side. Buck's grin didn't succeed in hiding his concern. Chris didn't even bother to try.

"How bad is he?"

"I'm ok."

"I wasn't asking you. You need to follow your favorite advice - lie still and shut up. Guys?"

The medic continued fiddling with equipment as he answered, placing an oxygen mask on Nathan. "We need to get him to the hospital. Head is clear but given the fact he was thrown out of a moving vehicle, I'd say it's likely he's gonna be laid up for a while. Vitals are pretty good all things considered, but we aren't going to stand around here talking. So, if you two will please get out of the way, he's ready for transport."

Chris turned to Buck. "Ride in with him. Get what you can without making things worse." His tone was enough to keep the medic from wasting time with arguments.

"Chris." Nathan tried to remove the mask to be heard.

"Don't. I know. We're gonna find Ezra. You focus on you for now. Buck will ask yes or no questions, so no talking needed. We'll find him Nathan."

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

**_tbc_**


	3. Chapter 3

"No way. Out. You are not needed here and you sure as hell aren't wanted."

Chris stopped a few steps into the hospital waiting room. He hadn't expected to see Rain here already, and certainly hadn't expected that reaction.

"One of my coworkers called when he saw Nathan's name on the board. A co-worker. Don't you think you should've notified me – or am I not important enough in your little circle?"

"I'm sorry Rain. I just haven't had the chance. Things have been a bit crazy."

"Crazy? You want to know what is crazy? Nathan is going into surgery to fix damage to his lung. His sternum is cracked, his ribs are broken, and they can even say for sure how bad his leg is. And I had to find this out second-hand because officially they won't tell me anything. Seems being his fiancée isn't enough - you are listed as his emergency contact. **You**!"

The news didn't surprise him, even though it was obvious she knew nothing about it. Most, if not all, of the team listed at least one of the others for emergencies. Aside from the fact that made life in the ER easier, it also reflected on how they felt about each other.

"All authorized and –"

"I don't want you to do that! I want him to."

By this time the others were arriving, and the situation only got worse.

"No!" Rain shouted. "None of you can see him. This is your fault. Bad enough he's doing this instead of finishing his medical training or doing any other SANE job you can name. Putting him undercover? He's not that guy."

"Now hold up." Buck wasn't going to let that go. "We didn't put him anywhere. This is what he does and he's damned good at it too."

"Yeah. His x-rays show just how good."

Chris held up a hand, trying to settle the room down. "Okay. This isn't helping. We need to see him and to talk to him."

"Why? The doctors can tell you what's going on."

He sighed, but Josiah spoke before he could answer. "We need to talk to him Rain." He hoped his friendship with the couple would override her concerns. He knew her better than the others on the team and maybe he could talk her past your fears and concerns. She was having no part of it.

"You don't want to talk to him. You want to question him. You want to find a lead. He's just another tool to you."

Chris took a slow deep breath. They didn't have time for this. "Yes, we need to question him. Ezra is still missing and –"

"I don't care. He was supposed to be Nathan's backup. Hell of a job he did with that."

"You can't think for a minute Ezra's to blame?" JD was shocked. Didn't she understand the only way this could've happened was if Ezra was in as much trouble as Nathan had been? Or more?

"Standish cares about Standish first, last and always. That and getting the precious job done. That's all any of you care about and I'm not going to let you put Nathan at risk anymore. Get out."

"What would he want?" Vin's voice was eerily quiet in contrast to the shouting that had been going on. "I'm not gonna try to talk you out of what you believe, but you need to ask yourself what Nathan would want. Whatever decision you make is one Nathan is going to have to live with when all of the dust settles. Both of you will. So what would he be asking you to do?"

There were several seconds of silence as Rain stared at him, then shifted her glance to the others. Her anger faded as she brought her hands to her tear stained face.

"Oh God. Oh dear God, why is this happening? Chris, I –" her voice caught. "He can't tell you anything. He's unconscious and they're taking him into surgery. I'm sorry. I'm just - I'm just so damned scared."

"We all are Rain. Don't forget – he is one ornery, tough son of a bitch."

Buck offered a cocky grin. "Has to be to put up with this bunch of lunatics."

"You're going to have to stay here with him. We'll keep checking in."

She nodded mutely, accepting the Kleenex box JD handed her and returning his encouraging smile. After taking a moment to collect herself she squared her shoulders and looked Chris in the eye. "When he wakes up what do you want me to ask him?"

"What he remembers. What he might know."

"Anything." Josiah added.

Rain nodded. "It could be a while."

Josiah nodded. "Well good then. Maybe by that point we will have found Ezra and won't need to bother Nathan at all."

"You have to. You have to find him I mean. I really didn't –"

"We know Rain. We get it" JD gave her a quick hug. "We get it."

There was nothing else to say and nothing to do here that could help. "We'll head back to the office. You keep us informed." Chris lead them out. Rain reached out tentatively, taking Vin by the arm.

"Thank you." He smiled and nodded. Further words weren't needed.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Chris stayed at the back of the elevator when it stopped on the ninth floor at the ATF building. "You guys start reviewing stuff. I'm going to check with the judge."

"See if he knows who screwed up in Denver Vice."

"That's not a priority right now Buck."

"It could be if it was deliberate."

"I doubt it would've played out like this if it was an inside man. But we're checking. Don't worry." The door slid closed and the four men headed to the office with quiet determination.

Chris used the time it took him to walk the length of the hall to get the story to date straight in his mind. It didn't take long. He believed what he'd said to Buck. This didn't feel like an inside job. It was too messy. Too public. If Nathan and Ezra had had their covers blown, there was no need for the show that went down at the storage facility. That risk made no sense, and that simple truth was proven by the fact Taylor had lost four of his people – two dead and two in custody. Reaching Travis's office and finding the door was halfway open, he didn't bother to knock. "What have you found out?"

"How's Jackson?"

Chris answered the judge's question first, giving him what few details he had.

"But he's going to be alright?"

Chris shrugged. "It's early. His leg is pretty bad from the sound of things and I doubt he's going to be able to bounce back from this quickly." He winced at his choice of words, but Travis didn't react.

"Harrington will be brought to us for questioning. From what we know of the organization he's Taylor's right-hand man but is loyal to a fault. He's done time before instead of turning on the man, which is why he's climbed to his level in the organization."

"We can find a way to get to him."

Travis chose to avoid responding to that comment, and the implications. "Denver Vice is sending over everything they've got, and Sgt. Carson will brief the team as well on everything they've got."

"Damn decent of them considering they didn't tell us about their operation the first place." Chris's eyes were dark with anger.

This was the part of the conversation Travis really hadn't been looking forward to. Team 7 stuck together, no matter what. When their united anger was aimed at a threat it was as intimidating as things could get. When it was directed inward, it was flat-out terrifying.

"They didn't screw up Chris. We sent them our report and they would have notified us per protocol. Problem was, we sent a report on Tyler, not Taylor."

Chris stared for a good 30 seconds. He processed all the possibilities in that time and dismissed them without speaking. Travis would've asked about any explanation that would have sent the blame back to Vice. This had been at their end, when the report was prepared. One simple typo and the entire report was misfiled.

"Who sent it?" Travis asked.

"Doesn't matter. I approved it, so it's on me."

Travis didn't argue. There was no point to the effort. He'd had a hunch about the answer before he'd started the explanation. Chris would have been more vigilant with Buck or Vin. They both had a tendency to need a bit of editing done when it came to paperwork. Nathan and Josiah were perfectionists. Each would've proofed their submission a dozen times. And JD knew he was too speedy on the keyboard, letting his fingers move faster than his thoughts. He also was sure to reread everything to avoid embarrassing himself. Chris's comment meant he hadn't done it, but instead had assumed the work would be right. The look on his face spoke all that was needed. He shouldn't have assumed Ezra would review the report. More often than not his reports matched most of what he did – flawless and pristine. But sometimes, when the anticipation of the chase got him pumped up or the role he was getting ready to assume had already begun to overtake him, his focus on the mundane slipped. And for someone like Standish, paperwork was most definitely mundane.

"This isn't his fault." Chris feared that defending Ezra was going to be an issue for them, and one that might get in the way of saving him. The blame had to be stopped before it started. "I signed off and that makes it my responsibility."

"Right now I could not possibly be less interested in assigning blame. I want Standish found and my best team put back together. Understood? Blame doesn't matter."

Not entirely sure he agreed with the final sentiment, Chris knew this wasn't the time for that discussion. He nodded and turned to leave. Travis's voice stopped him.

"One more thing. I don't need to tell you we're on the clock with this. That bastard threw Jackson from a moving vehicle so I doubt he will bother to keep Standish alive for very long. You have every resource you need, but if we don't find him soon…"

"That's where you're wrong. One way or another we find him. One way or another, we bring Ezra home."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

The slowing of the vehicle after a sharp turn told Ezra they were coming to a stop. He had lost track of time and direction, in no small part to his own lamentable inattention. The shock of watching Nathan disappear had quickly turned to anger as Taylor latched the back doors of the van. "Now maybe will be a bit more cooperative since you've just seen what I'm capable of."

"Your behaviour towards others left me with no doubts as to what you are capable of. What astonishes me is your total arrogant lack of understanding concerning the results of your actions. What you have just done has sealed your fate."

"My fate? Your own arrogance is laughable. I'm guessing it's a waste of time at this point to expect you to cooperate. I'll have to convince you it's in your own best interests. That will be entertaining."

It was about ten minutes later when the van finally came to a stop and Sylvia opened the door at the back. Taylor slipped down slowly, keeping his weapon pointed at Ezra. Sylvia spoke as Ezra stepped out. "There are several cars here you can use Boss. None of them will trace ba–"

Taylor had turned to look at the lot and that split second of distraction was all Ezra needed. Taylor himself was out of reach, but Ezra grabbed at Sylvia, pulling her in front of himself and wrapping an arm around her neck. Hiding behind a woman wasn't exactly chivalrous, and no doubt generations of Southern ancestral gentleman were spinning in their graves. Under the circumstances he could live with that.

"I am quite capable of breaking her neck Taylor, so I suggest you relinquish your weapon."

Their gazes locked together with neither man blinking. The tableau held for what felt to Ezra like an eternity – or two – before Taylor's face morphed with a twisted evil grin. In that instant, Ezra knew he had seriously underestimated the enemy.

"You make the foolish assumption that because I knew the death of your associate would disturb you, I have the same feelings toward my colleagues." He fired a single shot, killing Sylvia instantly. "You are quite wrong."

A second shot followed, and Ezra dropped to the ground.

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

**_tbc_**


	4. Chapter 4

The following chapter gets a little more graphic, at least in comparison to what I normally write. If you are concerned or squeamish, you can by-pass _the section in italics_. A far less descriptive summary will be given in the synopsis note at the end of the chapter. If you have questions or concerns, feel free to contact me.

_Taylor paced slowly. He circled, staying near the edges of the room, looking down at his prisoner. The space was cold and damp. Rotted boards let the wind whistle into the room and cracks in the ceiling allowed for puddles to form on the packed dirt floor. Light came only from a small back wall window most of the time, although during "questioning" a high wattage lantern cast long and eerie shadows. _

_He took a great deal of pleasure in seeing his prisoner in his current state. It was clear the man was in pain. Wasn't just the bullet in his leg, although that was certainly a good start. The injury had been tied off. At first, Ezra worried that the tourniquet was too tight and would cut off the circulation causing problems he didn't want to think about. But listening to Taylor's mad rants, he quickly became convinced the man had no intention of letting him die. He had far more interesting plans in mind, and that concern quickly overrode all others. _

_He was covered in cuts and bruises from being beaten and kicked. There was enough pain when he tried to take a deep breath to tell him he had cracked ribs. He didn't think any were broken – yet. When Taylor had tired of that sport, he was trussed to an old wooden chair, arms stretched out on the table in front of him, held securely in place by a length of rope attached to the far legs. His back ached from both the slightly bent over posture he was bound in and the belt strapping that had been given to him. Over the past 36 hours Taylor had made sure that Ezra knew exactly who was in charge. There had been little interrogation, but a great deal of pain inflicted. _

_"__You don't have to continue to hide your identity. There's been enough news coverage of that little incident to fill me in on most of what I need to know. I should have guessed you were ATF. Obviously, it was the firearms that got you interested. After all this started with a gun deal. You would have been so better off if you hadn't let yourself get distracted, but then you moral types always feel the need to impose your standards."_

_Ezra knew he should keep his mouth shut. He knew full well with the consequences were whenever he spoke out of turn, but consequences had never stopped him before._

_"__Moral types? Not an accusation leveled at me on a regular basis." He wasn't surprised when the fist hit him. Every time he surrendered to his need to comment he took another punch to the throat._

_"__You're a slow learner. aren't you? You speak when only spoken to."_

_"__Apparently, I was confused. I believed you were speaking to me –"_

_The punch was faster that time. Ezra didn't have a chance to brace himself and the impact almost knocked him from the chair. He struggled to catch his breath, vowing to keep quiet for at least a few minutes. _

_"__As I was saying, I am now fully aware of who you are representing. Your name is of little consequence to me. I really don't care whether you share it or not. But I will share something with you. In addition to costing me Sylvia by your actions, according to the news two of my people were killed during that shootout. Given the fact that she said Harrington was on the ground last time she saw him I will assume he was one of the fatalities. You cost me my driver, which was bad enough - she was a very good driver. But," he bent over and picked something up from the ground "you cost me something much more valuable than that. You cost me my right-hand man. So I think it's time to even the score._

_Ezra had no time to react. No time to realize what was happening before the pain resonated through him as Taylor smashed the brick down on his right hand. He could hear the cracking and popping sounds. Could feel every bone break. But only with the first hit. His own screams blended with the maniacal laughter of his torturer drowned out the noise from the remaining blows._

_Taylor stood, watching as the energy faded and Ezra finally surrendered to the pain and shock, collapsing toward the table and straining against the ropes. _

_"__Don't worry about passing out on me. We'll have lots more time together. I've only just begun."_

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Nathan didn't need to open his eyes to know exactly where he was. The sounds and smells were enough – he was far too familiar with all of it. The only questions were who was with him, and how badly was he hurt.

"Lie still honey. You're pretty banged up."

"Rain?" It was a hoarse squeak, so he repeated "Rain?"

"Yup. You just take it easy. You're in post-op. They had to fix some damage to your chest but you're going to be fine."

"The others?"

"They've been checking in regularly."

"Why?"

She frowned at the question. "Well, because they're worried. It's kind of what you all do."

He had very little success shaking his head. "No. Why not here?" He had the feeling he should already know that.

She hesitated for a second. "They're working."

It came rushing back to him. "Ezra!" Nathan's effort to move was blocked by her firm hand holding him still.

"Don't. Move. They're looking. They'll find him."

"I left him." Nathan sank back weakly.

"Left him? You were thrown out of a moving vehicle. If you hadn't been at a curve so you landed on the shoulder instead of the road –" she paused, her voice catching in her throat. "Well, It's a miracle you weren't killed."

"He's my partner." As far as he was concerned, nothing more needed to be said.

She shook her head angrily. The comments weren't much of a surprise to her, but she was still mad at him for feeling that way. "I can't imagine that it was your idea."

"That's not the point."

"Fine, it isn't. But all that matters right now is that you rest. The team is going to find Ezra, and this will all be done with."

Nathan closed his eyes for a moment. She was partially right. Finding Ezra was what the team needed to focus on, and he knew that worrying about him was a distraction they didn't need.

"Nathan? Chris wanted me to ask you if you had any idea where this guy might've taken Ezra."

He opened his eyes again, seeing for the first time the deep concern on her face. "They've got nothing?"

"More like too much from what Josiah was telling me. They're getting info from a bunch of sources which has left them with too many leads but no direction to follow. Chris was hoping you could narrow it down."

"I don't even know which way the van was going. We were in the back and couldn't see anything."

They weren't going to be happy to hear that. Her phone conversation with Chris a while ago left no room for doubt as to how desperate they were getting. "And this Taylor guy didn't say anything? Either then or maybe earlier?"

Nathan cautiously shook his head again. He lay still for a moment, trying to recall something - anything -that might offer some help, some guidance to the others. Taylor had been less than forthcoming about his personal life. Anything he could think of was information the team already had. "No. Nothing." It was killing him to know Ezra was still out there somewhere, and he was completely useless at offering any help.

She knew him well enough to know exactly what he was thinking. "You need to focus on getting better. You can't help anybody until you do. And you know Ezra wouldn't want you getting sicker worrying about him."

"Knowing it doesn't make it any easier to accept." He sighed softly. "Call them. Maybe if they tell me what they've got, something will ring a bell with me."

"You're supposed to be getting some rest. I don't think your doctor will approve-"

"My doctor has no say in the matter. Until we get Ezra back that is the only thing that matters." He looked up and knew what she was thinking. "Please Rain, call them. I'm not going to be able to sleep right now anyway, so at least I can try to be useful."

"I up the dosage of your pain meds and you'll be asleep before I could dial the phone. I'll give you 30 minutes – then you take a break. Deal?"

He didn't like it but was more than passingly familiar with the look he was getting right now. He wondered sometimes whether she taught it to Larabee or learned it from him. Either way, it was damned effective. He nodded slowly before setting his mind to reviewing everything he knew about Taylor.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Chris slammed the folder down on his desk. The information sent from DEA was useless. Nothing they didn't already have – hadn't already reviewed. Every bit of information seemed to be designed solely to frustrate them.

The earlier conversation with Nathan had been far more discouraging than he'd expected. Once they all got past the relief at hearing his voice again, the relief dissipated quickly. He had nothing to offer, only questions to ask. Josiah stayed on the phone with him, reviewing leads on where they thought Taylor may have gone to ground. The conversation was extremely one-sided. Nathan appeared to have little to offer. Finally, Josiah realized he was exhausting the patient, and cut the call off.

"Think about what I've said. Let is work on your subconscious. You're more likely to recall something in a dream than you are if you lie there dwelling on it all." He was quiet for a moment, then smiled slightly. "Yeah, we'll come in for a visit in a while and go over this again. Get some sleep." He hung up the phone, leaned forward with elbows resting on the desk and dropped his head into his hands.

"You really think he will be able to sleep?" Vin asked.

"He won't have a choice with Rain standing guard. Who knows? Maybe his subconscious really will come through with a lead." There was little confidence in his voice.

Chris came back into the bullpen in time to see Buck hanging up from a call with a decidedly devious look on his face. "Harrington has been transferred to our interrogation rooms. He's registered under an alias, just to be safe."

"Don't get your hopes up Buck. Judge hasn't even approved it for me to question the bastard yet. I seriously doubt he's gonna let you and your temper into the room with the man."

"Temper? I don't have a temper. I just have a few simple questions for the man, with a few direct ways of making sure we get the answers."

"Those ways would be a pretty fast way to end your career."

Buck turned to Vin. "You think that matters to me right now?"

"Nope – but it will piss Ezra off to no end. And that is not something you want to be doing."

"Right now getting lectured by Ez over my inappropriate behaviour would be the highlight of my day."

The buzz of the phone interrupted any further discussion. Chris grabbed for it. "Larabee. Yes, I know. OK, on my way." He hung up. "Travis and I are going to have a chat with Harrington. You guys keep working." Buck stood, determined to join in but Chris gently pushed him back into his seat. "Not yet friend. We're gonna hold your skills in reserve for now."

It took only a couple of minutes for him to make his way down to the high security cells in the basement of the building. Travis was already waiting.

"Harrington has been less than co-operative with the cops so far, and I don't imagine we have anything to offer that will change that."

Hating what he was about to ask for, Chris put the request out anyway. "Immunity? If he can get Ezra back for us –"

"They've already put that out. Immunity, witness protection – the whole deal. He still says no."

"He's that loyal?"

Travis shook his head. Loyalty would have been easier to deal with. "No. He's that scared. The only thing he has said is that Taylor had no qualms about killing anyone who betrays him. Or who gets in his way. Hell, he just has no qualms, period. Guy is a psychopath."

"Wonderful. And he's got Ezra, who sure as hell betrayed him and got in his way." When Travis didn't respond, Chris got nervous. "You think he's already dead – don't you?"

"Doesn't matter what I think. I'm already hearing from higher up the ladder that they are talking about switching his status from Missing in Action to Killed."

"This soon? You buy that?"

He thought for a minute. "I can't say why, but no – I don't. But like I said, it doesn't matter what I think. If they change his status –"

"- it changes our agenda." Chris finished for him. "Takes away the urgency."

"For them. Not for you six. I know you too well. I'm not letting this go that easily Chris. Evie would never forgive me if I just wrote one of you boys off."

Chris hadn't expected to laugh in this conversation. "Well, it just wouldn't do for you to have your wife that angry with you, so we better get on with this."

Harrington looked up when the door opened and immediately began shaking his head. "Nothing you can say. I'll rot in prison before I tell you anything."

"So we've heard. You do know we can protect you?"

The snort of derision was loud. "Not against Taylor you can't. The guy has connections everywhere. And he is certifiable. Totally crazy when in comes to loyalty, and I ain't gonna be the one to go against him."

Chris pulled up a chair next to him. "Well, we could just let you go, with a public statement thanking you for your co-operation."

"That the best you can do? Taylor's not stupid. He might be pissed at me at first, but when you guys don't swoop in and bust his ass, he'll know I didn't rat him out."

"What if we sweeten the deal for you?" Travis wasn't sure what he could offer beyond full protection but hoped Harrington would come up with his own suggestions.

The question earned him another snort. "You got something sweeter than staying alive? Sorry guys, but you're wasting your time." He leaned back in his seat, obviously done with the discussion.

Reluctantly, Chris rose. The one man who might have been able to bluff the prisoner into a deal was the man they were trying to find. The irony wasn't amusing. "We aren't done. We'll be back." He made his way to the door and buzzed for the guard to open it.

"Save your energy. I'm not changing my mind. Besides, I know Taylor. You're wasting your time. Even money says your man is already dead. Or is wishing he was."

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

**_tbc_**

Synopsis Note: Taylor has taken Ezra as hostage to an undisclosed location. In addition to the bullet wound in his leg from the previous chapter, he has been beaten and had his hand broken, although Taylor seems to want no information and is doing this only to torture Ezra.


	5. Chapter 5

It had been a month. The longest month any of them could remember. Nathan's recovery was slow but progressing after a couple of pins had been placed in his leg to heal the badly damaged bones. Despite his almost pathological desire, he was being restrained from starting any extensive physio. He wanted nothing more than to be recovered enough to join the search, but that was still a long way off.

His frustration was magnified by the fact the few memories he had of his last moments with Ezra had been of no real help. The van had been found abandoned soon after the incident. Despite a thorough search and forensics examination there was no significant information to be gained. The body of the driver found in the back gave them no leads but did cause a great deal of concern. As far as they could see there were only two options. Ezra had killed her in a clearly unsuccessful effort to escape, which only would have served to anger Taylor even further. None of them liked the consequences that would bring. Ever worse, to their way of seeing things, was the idea that Taylor had killed her himself. They all realized that a man who would kill his own crew was capable of anything. Not that the reminder was necessary. The sight of Nathan still in traction told them all they needed to hear.

Despite reassurances there was nothing he could have done, and that he was in fact damn lucky to still be with them, Nathan felt nothing short of self-loathing over leaving Ezra in the villain's clutches. He finally admitted, both to himself and to the others, that he felt responsible for the fact they were even in that van, that position, in the first place. He insisted it had been his idea to extend the investigation to include finding the missing children. Had they not pushed that envelope, Ezra would still be with them. The notion was laughable to all the others. Vin had summed it up best for them. "You really think for a moment we believe Ezra would leave children in danger? That he would leave anyone in danger?"

Nathan couldn't argue the sentiment, but it didn't make him feel any better. Despite his resolute refusal to put voice to the thought, he found it almost impossible to believe Ezra was still alive. To wish, hope and pray for it, certainly, but he couldn't force himself to believe it. Taylor was a bastard. There was no reason for him to keep Ezra alive. Well, that wasn't true. There was a reason; one that made Nathan wonder if his friend wouldn't be better off dead. They had enough background to know how sadistic and just plain evil Taylor was. Ezra being in his clutches for this long was a concept none of them wanted to think on. But it was the concept that kept them awake nights.

JDs guilt complex had less to do with what had happened, and more to do with what was going on now. He refused to allow his mind to go the idea that it was too late. Optimism was second nature to him, but even his boundless faith was wearing down. He had become a little more than an extension of his computer. Buck joked about setting up an IV unit next to it to keep the young man nourished but was beginning to think that was going to be needed. More than once he found JD slouched in the chair, just shy of sliding to the ground in his exhausted state.

When Buck wasn't focusing his concerns on JD, they shifted over to Chris. As much as JD's exhaustion worried him, Chris's slow slide into depression was a deeper concern. It was a different circumstance than when he lost his family, but the underlying guilt was much the same. Rationally, Chris knew there was no culpability from their end, but it didn't help. What had happened from the beginning in this debacle was largely out of his control. He knew that, but it didn't help. Ezra was part of his team, his responsibility. More than that though, he was a friend. And failing a friend was unforgivable.

As much as Buck was worried about Chris, Chris in turn was worried about Vin. Taciturn at the best of times, Vin was now entirely too calm and too quiet. Chris could interpret that only one way. He'd given up. His energy was now focused on trying to come to terms with what had happened. He helped with the case and kept his opinion to himself, but underneath it all, that meant he was an explosion waiting to happen. As a rule, Vin was the last one on the team to lose his temper, and one of the worst to deal with when that moment did happen.

Tempting as it was to storm out the door, Josiah had refrained from handing in his notice only because he feared for the sanity of the others. He set aside his own feelings, his own grief at the certainty the team had lost a man, a friend, a brother. He'd come to realize that a big part of what made this so damned hard to accept was the timing. Ezra had struggled so long to learn to fit in and to finally acknowledge the fact that he had been accepted as more than just another agent on the team. After a lifetime of looking over his shoulder for his past to catch up with him he was finally looking forward in life. A life that had been taken. Now, Josiah had to focus his concern on the survivors.

Guilt was wracking them all in varying degrees, making their task that much more draining. There was little comfort to be found for any of them. The harder they searched to find some hint, clue, inkling of what had happened, the further away hope slipped. The not knowing, the uncertainty, was pushing them all to the edge. And when the rumours began that the ATF wanted to declare Ezra dead it all hit the fan.

The 'unofficially' official stand was that there was no reason to keep looking for Ezra. Taylor would remain on their "Most Wanted" list, but it was simply not logical to assume that he would have kept a federal agent held prisoner - alive – for this long. It was far too great a risk. Judge Travis had been unable to deny the rumours when Chris went to confront him.

"I said I'd stick behind you men and I'm not backing down on that." Travis tried to calm Chris's mood with no success. "But there comes a point when reality has to be accepted."

"It's barely been a month. We both know Ezra has a gift for survival that nobody else can equal."

"We're not talking about a gift here; we're talking about a miracle. We may not know a lot about Taylor, but we know one thing. He may be psychotic, but he's not insane. Keeping Ezra alive would be a foolish move, and we both know he's not a stupid man. Dammit Chris, you think I like saying this?"

Chris dropped into the chair across the desk from his boss. He knew the arguments made sense. He knew the odds were so far against Ezra that even the gambler himself wouldn't have taken that bet. His head kept telling him it all made sense. But his gut was another matter. "You're right. I know you're right. But I also know you're wrong. Ezra is out there, and we owe it to him to find him. We have to."

"How? Honest to God Chris, if you had any kind of viable lead, I would tell you to run with it. But we haven't even had a sighting of Taylor in weeks."

"We've had lots of sightings." Chris countered, before conceding the point. "Just none of them that can be proven."

Travis watched his man for a moment. He couldn't remember ever seeing Chris look quite so discouraged. He felt bad enough about all of this himself. He could only imagine the pain this mess was causing to the team. "I think I can buy you another week. We can blame bureaucracy and paperwork for delaying the orders to assign you a new case."

"You going to get yourself in trouble?"

"That's nothing new. I've been used to that feeling ever since I put you guys together. Go over everything one more time. Somewhere buried in all of that there has to be something."

"I appreciate it Judge. Oren. I know the reality. I get that there's a better than even chance all we're going to be doing is bringing home his body. But we owe him that. He deserves at least that."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

The 11:00 call came from Denver PD. Detective McCormick had been the lead officer, keeping the team informed of every tip and lead the cops had been following, even though to date none had been worth the time involved. He knew phoning this late wasn't an issue. The calls were always answered.

"Larabee, I may have something for you."

Chris didn't get his hopes up. He'd heard that too often. "You're on speaker. Sanchez and Tanner are with me. Talk."

"There's a private club not too far from Mile High. Very private, very exclusive. And mostly, very illegal, at least for what goes on in there. We've got someone on the inside who says your target was there a couple nights ago. He could only get word to us today, but talk is that Taylor is due back there after midnight for some kind of deal going down."

"Your source an informant or undercover?"

"I'm not going to answer that. But I will say I have no reason to doubt him. This may be the break you've been waiting for. I'll text you the details."

The call ended abruptly. Vin looked up from spot he'd been staring at on the table. "He sounded confident."

"We've heard it before."

Josiah summed it up for them. "What choice do we have Chris? We've got to try."

It took less than 30 minutes for the team to gather two blocks from the address they'd been given. Older homes, some gentrified private residences and others converted to office space, lined the streets. None had much activity apparent this late at night but Buck had noted an office parking lot about a third full of cars nearby. Far too busy for an architectural firm at midnight.

"Doesn't sound like there is any kind of club in the area." JD observed. He and Buck had driven past the spot on the way over to look for signs of life.

"Given the nature of the place, it would be soundproofed and blacked out to keep a low profile. Anything there to say what the place is supposed to be?"

He shook his head. "Looks like any converted office building. Paved front for clients, a listing of three or four businesses inside. Nothing out of the ordinary. Except for the fact it looks like there might be bars on the basement windows, but that is all that uncommon."

"OK. I talked to McCormick again. They've agreed to set up a drug-raid to flush everyone out. They've made contact with their source and he can let them know when Taylor is in there. We watch and grab him on the way out."

"Risky. We should just move in."

Josiah tried to be the voice of reason. "From what we know about the place, that would turn it into a shooting gallery Buck. Aside from the very good chance that some of the good guys could end up shot, we have to remember there are civilians living in the area. A few stray bullets and this will get even uglier."

"And the added confusion could help Taylor slip out." Vin added. "We'll be covering the exits."

"The ones we know about. This kind of place probably has others." Buck wasn't convinced with the plan. They'd had almost no time to work out details, and that led to mistakes. He couldn't accept the thought they were this close, and that it might all go south on them.

"McCormick seems pretty sure of the plan. It's the best we've got, and we have to follow their lead on this."

The next 90 minutes passed slowly as they waited in silence for the signal. Tension mounted a couple of times as guests either arrived or departed, but no one even remotely resembling Taylor was spotted. He was either already there and the inside man couldn't tell them, or this was another wild goose chase. Chris was about to give into Buck's wishes when his phone vibrated. Two texted words – "Go now". They were out of the car and in position without any further prompting.

All hell broke loose two minutes later. Tires screeched, sirens blared, and lights were flashing. Chris had an eerie sense of deja-vu. It all felt like the raid that started this nightmare, and he said a quick prayer that it would have a better ending. It took very little time for people to start running from the building. Most tried to get out the doors, only to find themselves running into the welcoming arms of law enforcement. A few were jumping from first and even second story windows and quickly were brought to ground as well.

The team scanned each face, looking for the only suspect they were interested in. That didn't stop Buck from tripping a few of the runners, or Josiah from 'gently' guiding a few more onto the grass. JD was the first to spot a couple of people coming out of a storage garage in the back corner of the lot. "Over there!" He shouted as he ran toward the unexpected escape route. Buck and Vin followed while Chris and Josiah kept watch. That changed when more shouts were heard.

The hand that had reached out and grabbed JD came from nowhere and he felt the gun barrel press against his head an instant later.

"Don't suppose I need to tell you what to do next, do I?"

"Give it up Taylor. This isn't going to end well." Buck starred at the hood, his look leaving no doubt in any mind.

"You willing to sacrifice the boy? Am I worth that to you?"

"You aren't worth anything. But we do have a few questions."

The flood lights from the police cars allowed them a good look at every move. The smirk on Taylor's face was almost enough to push Buck over the edge. It was only focusing on the big picture that kept him from acting on his instincts – barely.

"Questions? Can't imagine what they might be."

Chris and Josiah were now pointing weapons at him as well. Chris stared stone-faced. "Where is Ezra?"

"Was that his name? Now that's not something you need to worry about anymore."

Buck cocked his weapon while raising his aim. "That ain't an answer."

"Fine. That's not something anyone needs to worry about anymore. 'cept maybe an undertaker." The evil snarl deepened with pleasure at the reactions. "Or maybe I'm lying. How 'bout I tell the details to the boy here before I let him go? Sounds like a fair trade."

"You're not leaving here a free man, so let's just put –"

Chris interrupted Josiah; he was in no mood for a reasoned approach. "Here's your fair deal. Let JD go. Tell us where Ezra is. Then, maybe, we let you walk out of here in handcuffs 'stead of being carried on a stretcher."

"Nope – doesn't work for me."

"How does this work?" Vin asked from behind, resting his gun to the back of the man's neck.

"Kid will die before you shoot."

"The bullet will severe your spine. You won't even have time to think about twitching, let alone pulling a trigger. And by the way, he is an agent of the ATF, not a kid."

Taylor starred down Chris and the others, reading the mood. There was no room for negotiation. He loosened his grip without yet letting go of JD and Vin pulled his weapon back a couple of inches. That was all that was needed for Taylor to spin away, making the move at the same time to pull the trigger. A single shot rang out and he dropped to the ground.

JD tumbled clear and immediately leapt up, ready to lay into Vin when he saw the look of shock and confusion on the sharpshooter's face. All attention turned to Buck, who slowly walked over to the body, firing five more shots into it before he lowered his weapon.

"What the fuc-"

"No JD." Josiah tried to stem the tirade with no success.

"What were you thinking? How are we going to find Ezra now?"

"We found Taylor; we'll find Ezra." Chris's voice was much calmer than he felt.

"In time?" JD challenged. "Seriously Buck, what the hell were you thinking?"

The reply was chillingly calm. "We've lost one JD. I wasn't going to let that bastard kill you too. That's just too much."

No one spoke.

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

_**tbc**_


	6. Chapter 6

Travis was waiting patiently in Chris's office. He'd left orders with the cell block guards that no one got in to see the prisoner without talking to him first. Now all he had to do was wait for an extremely pissed off ATF team to show up. He knew they would.

Nothing on Taylor's body had given them any leads. The address on the phony ID he was caring didn't exist. Searching the club was no help, and even though they found his car was located a couple of blocks away, the initial sweep by forensics had given them nothing to go on either. There was still more to review, but unlike those damned TV shows, real life took time. Time they really didn't have.

Travis had read the preliminary reports but all that had done was increase his blood pressure. What the hell had Wilmington been thinking? No one was going to blame him for killing the bastard, especially with Dunne's life on the line, but emptying his gun into the body after was going to be problematic. Internal affairs would see the report and jump all over it. The act turned a routine line-of-duty shooting into an excessive force/police brutality issue. That was a headache they didn't need in the mix.

"You want to tell me why we can't see Harrington?" Chris stormed in. He'd gone up to Travis's office demanding the same thing, only to be told his boss was waiting down on the 9th floor. The delay only fanned the flames.

"Because charging in there and beating on the man is only going to cause me more paperwork. I sent for his lawyer first, and as we speak, he is explaining the new reality to Harrington and hopefully inspiring some co-operation."

"I can inspire him."

"Yes, Wilmington. I've been reading about your approach to handling things. When all of this shit settles, we will be having a long chat on the matter."

Buck really didn't care. None of it mattered anymore, but that didn't lessen his desire to inflict as much damage as he could on anyone involved in this. To hell with the consequences.

"Now," Travis continued, "I see Mr. Dunne is not with you. I was told he was uninjured - **is** he alright?"

"He's taking a walk to cool off some before coming in here. He's still a bit -" Josiah hesitated, searching for the right term "-displeased with Buck at the moment."

"I can imagine. Was McCormick's man able to provide anymore information?"

Chris stopped pacing. "Nothing. And nobody else is talking either. Everyone has lawyered up, and we are shut out. Harrington is our best bet."

"We should be able –". He was interrupted by the phone, which he answered before anyone else could reach of it. "Travis here. Yes. Very good. Agent Larabee will be down in a moment."

Chris was already headed out the door, with Buck at his heels. "Gentlemen!" They stopped, both knowing not to ignore that tone from the judge. "This is a man in our custody, and he will be in the same condition when you leave that room as he is when you enter it. Is that clearly understood?"

Taking a deep breath, Chris nodded. Buck was a bit slower in responding, but reluctantly gave the same assurance.

"My lawyer tells me it's true." Harrington didn't bother waiting for any small talk when Chris came into the room. "Taylor's dead."

"I can arrange to take you down to autopsy if you want to see the body. He's as dead as it gets."

Buck stared at him. "So it's up to you. You want to give us information, or do you want to join him?"

Chris waved Buck back. He didn't need this getting out of control before the conversation even started. "You didn't want to talk because of Taylor. He's no threat anymore."

Harrington didn't make eye contact, shifting in his seat as he tried to decide if this was all for real. It wasn't out of the question for his lawyer to be lying. Taylor could well have paid him off. And normally he wouldn't believe cops. But there was no reason he could come up with that both groups would lie to him. And there was something about this Larabee guy that told him this wasn't a scam. He chewed on his lip for a moment longer. "OK. I know four other names that Taylor used to hide his assets. Mostly bank accounts and stuff like that. But I think there is property as well."

"We don't have time for a treasure hunt. Where would he have been hiding out?"

"Hiding out is easy. He'd got a penthouse under the name Ken Little. It's on Bellevue Drive. But he wouldn't have taken your man there."

Buck sat across the table, his stare burning into the prisoner. "I think I just told you we don't have time for games. Where **would** he take our man?"

"I don't know. He didn't tell me everything. Hell, he didn't tell anybody everything. Or have you forgotten the man was nuts?"

Only the firm grip Chris put on his shoulder kept Buck from leaping across the table. "Just give us the names and anything else you've got."

"What kind of deal do I get?"

Chris shook his head. "Your chance for a deal came and went when all of this started. Right now the best you can hope for is that I don't leave the room and let Buck here do the questioning. That's the best offer you're going to get, and in case you hadn't guessed, neither one of us is exactly known for our patience."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

JD mumbled threats at his computer. This was the first viable lead they'd had but the search was slow. Harrington had finally given up the aliases and JD pounced on the fresh leads all the while cursing himself out for not having found them earlier. The fact it was impossible never factored into his logic.

Vin and Josiah were in charge of keeping the young agent fed and watered. Buck was effectively banished from his presence. Forgiveness had not come yet and none of them were sure whether the anger was for the shooting, or for voicing the thought none of them had dared to say. Being the first to declare Ezra was dead had set them all on edge. Once it was out there, there was no pulling it back.

The names had widened the search, and everyone was doing his best to help narrow it down again. Records were reviewed for any links to properties that would be suitable to keep someone prisoner. It was frightening to realize how few places that criteria eliminated. Every address found was searched, usually by local cops but if it looked even remotely promising Buck and Vin went out in person, each time coming back dejected. Several locations were easily eliminated. Too public, too accessible to be viable.

After filtering through everything that was left, it was late into the fourth day when a hoarse "hot damn" was heard from JD. "In the mountains – a cabin. It fits. Forensics found mud on Taylor's car."

"Mud could have come from just about anywhere JD." Josiah understood the enthusiasm, but it was a thin lead to hang hopes on.

"Look, I know it's not much, but there was mud and leaves in the car. Fresh. And a place like this – in the middle of nowhere. It would be perfect. We've got to go there." He knew in his gut this was right.

Vin was less optimistic. If this was right, the chances Ezra was still alive, already down to slim, were rapidly dropping to none. It had been colder in the mountains. Not freezing yet, but cold enough. Ezra wouldn't be in any kind of cabin resort up there. It was doubtful he had heat, and probably no food or water since Taylor had last been there. That was pushing five days now.

No one spoke, or even moved for a good thirty seconds. Chris put his hands on his desk and pushed himself up. He made his way slowly to JD. "I know you're tired, and you've been going none stop. I don't want to put this on you, but I need to ask - are you ready to bet Ezra's life on this? If you stop searching to come with us on this, it is our – his – last chance."

"I know that Chris. But it makes sense. And frankly, if he isn't there, I'm pretty sure we're too late anyway."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

He'd given up on counting the days. The effort had been worth it at first if for no other reason than to give him something to think about. Something to focus on. Something other than the pain. Because if he kept thinking about that he was afraid he would go insane. Unless of course he already had. He spent a lot of time wondering about that and was starting to hope it was true, even though he knew it wasn't - yet. Crazy was bad, but reality was worse. And no hallucination, no nightmare, could hurt like this.

He stopped trying to speak some time ago. Every word had earned him another punch, or worse. Regardless of how much he liked to talk, he accepted that that simply wasn't an option. Speak only when spoken to and one-word answers. Talking, even just a word, hurt like hell now. His voice was no longer worth hearing. Had ever been?

His thoughts jumped again. There should be food today. Shouldn't there? Water everyday food every other. Stale bread, mouldy cheese, rotten fruit. Something. Every other day. That was how did been since this all started. At least, he thought so. Maybe?

That gave him something else to think about. When did he last eat? What did the last eat? It was bread. He was almost sure because he remembered it was stale and hard to swallow, in every sense of the phrase. The when was another matter. He had no sense of time anymore. A minute was the same as an hour. As a lifetime.

No – that wasn't where he was going. No thinking about death. Because that meant thinking about the man he'd let die. The man who'd been killed because he couldn't do his job. And thinking that way was just too hard. Too draining. Too much. Physical pain was one thing. This was something else altogether.

He looked at the empty water bottle and mentally frowned. He didn't remember drinking today. In fact, his mouth was so dry he was sure he hadn't. The harder he tried to remember his last sip the more difficult it was. He tried to reach out for the bottle. Maybe there were still a few drops in it. All he succeeded in doing was tipping it over and he was left to watch as it rolled out of reach. Focusing, he summoned what little energy he had left and stretched out his hand. It fell far sure short of the goal and landed on the soggy ground beside the threadbare blanket he was on. Soggy? That meant there was moisture there. Of course it was wet. This shed – that was too generous a term – was anything but waterproof. It may have been, once, but now the wind whistled through the many slits in the wood and rain filtered through the roof. He hadn't been warm and dry for as far back as he could remember.

He longed for the heat of the sun, the warm Georgia breezes and misty summer days. His mind would take in there sometimes, when he was lucky enough to be able to pretend. Mint juleps on the veranda, sweet tea for the more proper or younger members of the family. A summer evening of peaceful contemplation. The memory wasn't real. It was a just another fantasy he'd created in his childhood. But it was enough for the moment.

Cold drops of rain on his face brought reality crashing back to him. The only blessing was that the few drops rolled towards his mouth and he greedily sucked them in. They weren't even enough to moisten his lips.

He remembered something soggy. Oh yes - the ground was soggy. He scratched at it, scooping up the muddy slush. Putting all thoughts of what else might be mixed in, he weakly raised his fingers and sucked in the mud trying to strain the water before trying to spit out the debris. He choked, managing a feeble cough to clear his aching throat before allowing his hand to flop back to the ground in exhaustion.

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

**tbc**


	7. Chapter 7

**Warning: Descriptions of injuries caused by torture. Not graphic, but once again, if you are concerned or squeamish, you can by-pass the paragraphs in italics (sorry if that is distracting to the rest of you). I may be excessively cautious here, but there have been a few critiques on past stories, so better safe than sorry. The paragraphs are not critical to understanding the storyline, so there are no author notes at the end.**

**7-7-7-7-7-7-7**

There were sounds coming from outside. He wasn't sure exactly what they were. Or how long they'd been there. He'd been asleep or unconscious. He was never really sure which way to define it. He opened his eyes barely enough to see it had gotten darker, but he didn't know if that was night, overcast, or simply the fact that he was slipping away. But he did know he could hear something. That meant He was back.

His captor. His tormentor. His own personal version of hell. For a brief time, Ezra dared to believe he had finally been left alone to die. He knew he should be fighting that, but he was in all honesty to tired to put forth the effort. At least, he had thought that before his desperate attempt to suck water from the mud. Maybe he still had a stronger survival instinct than even he was aware of.

On the other hand, if this was living, he was quite certain he wanted nothing more to do with it. He couldn't even remember anymore why he struggled to hold on. It would be so much easier to give up. To simply surrender to the temptation of not fighting anymore. There was a reason he didn't do that, although his mind couldn't summon that at this point. It had something to do with not letting the bastard win. That had seemed important when all of this started. He was going to fight back. He was going to make sure that this man paid for what he done. Ezra now knew that was never going to happen. The reality was he was going to die out here, alone, without being able to settle the score. His only comfort was in the fact he knew the others eventually would. Not for him. He had let them down. But they would not let the man who had killed Nathan walk free. He was going to have to let that knowledge be enough.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

The rain pounded down, making the weather match the mood of the men. No one even suggested turning back despite the fact the road 20 feet ahead was all but invisible.

"Bridge safe?" Buck had stopped driving and stepped out to inspect the wooden support.

"Looks to be solid enough." he answered Chris while slipping back behind the wheel. The creek waters were high and fast from the constant downpour. Buck drove slowly as they all listened to the creaks and groans from beneath the SUV. There was unspoken relief when they made it to the other side, even thought the road was now more path than paved. It was about a mile through heavy woods before anything promising was spotted. The cabin was less than elegant but certainly functional and design. There were no signs of life. No smoke from the chimney, no fresh tracks in the wet ground. That didn't lessen the degree of caution with which they approached the structure. Taylor may be dead, but they had no guarantee that there wasn't an accomplice or at the very least a few booby-traps set up to guard against unwanted visitors. That certainly would be his style.

Chris approached head on, with JD just behind him, while Josiah went to the right. Buck headed to the left, where the window gave him an inside view of the front door. He spotted no wires or other indicators of trouble. The space was sparsely furnished, lacking in anything that made the place into more than a log cabin. A couple of chairs beside an old table and a couch that had seen better days next to a wood stove. He couldn't tell what was behind the door that closed off the far side. Likely some kind of bedroom. The only other door opened onto a small but functional bathroom. Toilet, shower, sink. One of the few hints of civilization in the middle of this wilderness.

Vin made his way to the back. He doubted that there was a door there and even if there had been, he would have bet his next paycheck no one would be coming through it. He had seen nothing to challenge the belief that the place was deserted and had been at least since Taylor's death. The tracker in him would have spotted some suggestion of activity if anybody had been around.

When he cleared the side of the house, he got his first look at the small shed that sat 60 yards or so further back. The chill that ran down his spine had nothing to do with the cold rain and blowing wind. He knew in his soul that was where they would find Ezra. And the sight of the building, ramshackle and isolated, inspired a dread of exactly what form that discovery would take.

The small side window gave him a narrow view inside, where he could check again for any signs of a trap. It was too dark to make out much of anything but after focusing the high beam of his flash around the door he decided it was safe to enter.

He had to fight his gag reflex when he opened the door to the stench of human waste, stale air and the faint hint of blood. What he registered immediately was that there was one smell missing. There was no decomp, and that gave him a moment of hope. He cast a light around the room, making it a little more than halfway before stopping. A figure on the floor, not reacting to the intrusion. But there was movement. The barely perceptible suggestion of trembling.

"Ezra?" He spoke quietly, not wanting to startle him. He also hoped to avoid signalling the others of the discovery for fear the stampede would be terrifying. "Ezra, it's Vin."

There was still no reaction and he cautiously stepped in and moved closer, keeping the light away from Ezra's face. He paused before speaking, determined to keep the horror from his voice. "We're here for you Ezra. It's over. This is all over." He knew he was lying. This was far from being over.

_Ezra was emaciated. He looked to be at least 30 pounds lighter than he had been. Maybe closer to 40. The smell of urine, blood and infection was stronger as he got closer. Stains on the filthy ragged clothing were testimony to the injuries. Even a cursory glance showed the signs of the tortures Ezra had been subjected to. The shirt was shredded from lashes, and burn holes were scattered on the sleeves and front, as well as on the pant legs. Fabric was sliced and blood stained, with seeping wounds visible through the slits. Vin silently cursed out Taylor once again as he bent to gently lay a hand on his friend. It was impossible to know if the trembling he could feel was fear, cold, or illness but he suspected all three. Despite the chill in the air, there was a heat radiating from Ezra, which had to mean fever. _

"Ezra, can you hear me?" He scanned the area with his flash, sickened by what he was seeing, and growing increasingly anxious at the lack of any response. He was about to speak again when he heard sounds from outside.

"I'll be right back Ezra." He made it to the door before JD entered.

"You find anyth-"

"Keep your voice down. I need you to send Chris down here. Get me the med kit from the car. And we need anything clean that can be used for bandages."

"He's here? He's alive?" JD tried to contain his excitement with what could only be described as limited success.

"Quiet." Vin hissed. "Can we get heat in the cabin? Stove, fireplace, campfire? I don't care how. But we need heat in there."

"Sure, but why not just heat up the car for him?"

Vin glanced back before answering. "Not sure he could take the ride right now. The roads are too rough for him especially, with this weather. We need to clean him up and treat some of the wounds. Try to get some water into him too. For now, just get me what I asked for, okay?"

JD nodded solemnly, suddenly very scared that finding Ezra might not be the happy ending they'd been hoping for.

Kneeling close, Vin spoke softly. "Ezra, we're going to get you cleaned up some and warmed up. Going to get you to the cabin, alright?" He leaned in, brushing the uncommonly long locks of hair from Ezra's face. Close as he was now, he could better gauge just how pale and drawn Ezra was. There were no words he could think of that could begin to offer the comfort and reassurance that was needed.

"Vin?" Chris's voice at the door was hesitant.

"Chris is here now Ezra. We're going to get you cleaned up and move you somewhere warm." He knew he was repeating himself, but still had no clue whether Ezra was hearing him.

Chris stepped in and silently handed over the first aid kit JD had retrieved from the car. When his eyes adjusted to the dark, he studied the 6' by 8' cell. Ezra was on the floor in the corner with his left hand shackled by a short chain bolted to the wall. His ankle was likewise bound. There was no sign of food anywhere and, aside from an empty bottle that was out of reach, the only water seemed to be the dirty puddles that formed from the leaks in the roof. One was close enough to be Ezra's only source of hydration. He tried not to dwell on how filthy that source was.

"Don't suppose you see any keys lying around?" It took Chris a moment to realize Vin was speaking to him.

"No, but I don't imagine it will be too hard to pull those from the wall."

"Not sure we can do that without spooking him."

"We can if we have to." There was no mistaking the determination in his tone. "Buck is getting the stove stoked. Should have things warmed up pretty fast." He paused. "JD says Ezra can't travel?"

Vin kept his voice low and tried to keep it steady. "Can't imagine it would do him much good. We should at least try to get him cleaned up. Wrap some of the sores. Something's wrong with his right hand but I haven't been able get a good look at it yet."

"What else?" Josiah's voice was a tense whisper from the door.

"I can't see how we would have had any food since Taylor left here so that's close to a week. He may have been able to scoop up water, but probably not for a while now. He's got sores, cuts, and God knows what else." Vin choked back his temper.

"He awake?"

"Not really."

With a tightly clenched jaw, Josiah spoke again. "Fire's started but it will take a few minutes to warm things up. JDs heating some water for you. The bed that is in there isn't much, but I imagine it will feel like paradise compared to this floor.

Chris nodded. "Load it up with blankets. He's hurting and we need to cushion him as much as possible." Vin turned away from the conversation, muttering to Ezra again, hoping that, at some level, the words were getting through.

Josiah returned a few minutes later with water and bandages. JD had torn towels pulled from their ready bags into strips and Vin and Chris slowly and carefully began the job of trying to return Ezra to a state that at least hinted at the man they knew.

Vin continued murmuring to Ezra. "Wish I had something here to give you for the pain Ezra. Bet one of Nathan's brews would taste pretty good to you now."

A low whimper came in response. Vin stopped his actions. "Damn Ezra, I'm sorry. I'll try to be more careful, but I can't make any promise."

_He almost lost his grip on control when he was finally able to see the damage done to Ezra's right hand. Chris's cursing strangely worked to help the tracker keep his focus and cushion the hand as much as was possible before they moved Ezra. He still couldn't tell how it had been broken, but clearly the bones had set themselves in ways that came nowhere close to a proper manner, and Vin had the sinking feeling that no amount of surgery was going to be able to correct that. They wrapped it securely to try to keep and further movement to a minimum, unsure how much damage there was, and how much of it could be felt. When the faint whimpers increased in intensity, they had their answer._

It hadn't been as easy as Chris had hoped to free the Ezra from the wall. The bolts were deeply set and the small tool kit in the car didn't have what was needed. Chris chiseled at the wall, trying to avoid any movement to the chain which resulted in further chafing of Ezra's already raw skin. With one foot on the chain to keep it still, he gave a hard tug and finally freed the arm shackle and a few moments later Vin helped him do the same for the leg.

"No way to work these off his wrists." Vin spoke quietly. Even with the weight loss, he still couldn't image forcing them over Ezra hand or foot. It was likely to break more bones, given the fragile state he was in.

"Keys are probably with Taylor's stuff in evidence. I'll have the Judge look and bring them to the hospital as soon as I can place a call."

When the time finally came to move up to the cottage Buck walked a step behind Josiah, supporting him in case of a misstep on the muddy, uneven surface. He needn't have worried. An earthquake wouldn't have been enough to shatter the concentration and determination that possessed Josiah as he carried Ezra to the house. He tried not to dwell on the fact that the sturdy and fit man was now frail enough to be lifted so easily.

Chris and JD were waiting inside, allowing Vin a few moments alone to deal with everything he'd had to do in the previous half hour. Despite what had to have been a painful experience, Ezra had barely reacted to anything. The slow shaking and occasional soft moan continued throughout, but not a word had been said.

"Set him on his other side so we can finish cleaning him up." Chris hadn't needed to tell Josiah that, but it was the only way he felt he had any control in the situation. He couldn't remember the last time he felt so useless.

Once Ezra was settled, Buck moved back into a corner. There was a low, steady growl emanating from him. The ready smile was totally absent as was the standard glint in his eyes. JD moved to him. "Don't go there, Buck. I know I've been pissed at you, and I was wrong. I guess seeing Ezra like this is reminding me of what matters. This isn't anybody's fault except for that bastard, and he's paid for."

"Not nearly enough."

"You know he wasn't going to tell us anything. You knew it then."

Buck sighed deeply, swallowing the anger that made him want to scream. "No, I didn't. What I knew is he was going to kill you, sure as shit. And what I thought I knew is that Ezra was already dead. Truth was, I'd given up, and all this time… He would have just starved to death alone out here. And THAT is my fault."

"You weren't alone Buck." Chris stepped over. "Nathan felt the same. What do you think has been eating so bad at him? Truth is, I never expected this – finding him - either. Wanted it yes. Expected it, not a chance."

Josiah's call for assistance interrupted them. "If we've got more towels or anything, we're going to need them."

"There's a couple of shirts we can tear up." Buck grabbed his travel bag.

"JD, you have some of those god-awful chocolate protein bars of yours?"

Without bothering to answer, JD began scrounging in his own bag. A moment later he held up two Booster bars with a satisfied grin.

"No way can Ezra eat one of those." Chris cringed at the thought, knowing how much all of them except JD hated the supplement.

Josiah agreed, but that wasn't the plan. "We can break a piece off and melt it in some hot water. Cooled down some he should be able to drink it. At least a tablespoon or so at a time. I doubt his system can handle very much but we need to try."

"There should be some protein drinks in the car."

Josiah nodded. "Probably, but they'd be too strong for him right now."

Other than the sounds of tasks being done, and the soft soothing words Josiah continue to speak to Ezra the room went quiet.

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

**tbc**


	8. Chapter 8

Warning: Once again, descriptions of injuries caused by torture. Not graphic, but those of you who don't want to deal with it can by-pass the paragraphs in italics. You will still be able to follow the story.

Buck paced the room, idly picking up and putting down items as he prowled. Spotting a small chest in a dark corner, he headed towards it. Based on the size, he was willing to bet it help another blanket or two, and Ezra would likely need those. If not now, then on the ride back to town. He squatted next to it, flipping the lid up.

"Son of a goddamned bitch."

Chris was at his side in three long strides. "Keep your voice do-". He looked into the box and was silenced. Pliers, a small knife, a riding crop – all blood stained.

There were several vials of drugs. Chris pulled a few out, reading the labels but not having a clue as to what the contents were. He looked over to the shelf where several bottles of water stood.

"Did you use those for Ezra?" He looked to JD.

"Course not. Who knows what might be in them? I took some of ours from the emergency bag in the car."

Chris sighed in relief. "Thank God. Take these JD. Soon as you can get some kind of a signal, see if you can figure out what they're for."

Buck hadn't moved from his position. He stared at the torture chamber in front of him, wishing he'd been able to keep Taylor alive long enough to inflict even a small amount of this pain in repayment. His eye landed on a brick standing on end at the back. Cursing, he reached for it.

"Leave it Buck. It's evidence."

"For what? There's no trial, no charges for any of this. The only evidence we need is lying in there on that bed, broken in more ways than any man should ever be. I'm not about to have this as part of some case file where he'll ever have to see it again." Without waiting for a response, he picked up the offending item and stormed from the cabin. JD went to follow, but Chris held him back.

"Leave him be JD. If this is how he needs to exorcise some of his demons, we aren't going to stop him."

By Chris's estimate, Buck would have just had time to reach the edge of the ravine overlooking the rising and fast flowing creek when the shout was heard. "Fuck you, you son of a bitch!" A splash none of them could hear followed a few seconds later.

Vin chuckled for Ezra's benefit in case the outcry had disturbed him. "Buck never could hold in that temper of his. Nothing for you to worry about Pard. We've got it all under control." He kept working on cleaning and dressing the wounds. He'd lost count of how many there were and tried to avoid focusing on what had caused them. The sound of soft footsteps made him look up.

"Keys were in the box. Let's get those – things – off him." Chris leaned down as he spoke, working first on the leg iron. Ezra didn't move. "Gonna be as gentle as I can here Ezra, but if you feel the need to curse me out, you go right ahead. Be kinda nice to hear that right about now."

Ezra's head turned slightly, and his eyes opened a bit wider, but nothing was said. He watched as the key turned but was still startled when he felt the weight fall away. A moment later his arm was free as well and he offered the first sign that he was aware of what was happening as he nodded ever so slightly. Chris lightly rested his hand on Ezra's. "Vin is going to finish fixing you up, then in the morning, we're going to take you home." He waited for a reaction, but none came. He stood and stepped away when Buck returned.

"Feel better?"

"No. But I don't feel any worse." He tilted his head toward the bed. "How bad is he – really?"

"Cleaning him up hasn't improved the picture. I just wish we had Nathan here to help."

There was a small moan from the bedroom, followed by Josiah's voice. "Sorry Ezra. We have to bandage up your wrist. I'll try to be more careful."

Taking Buck by the elbow, Chris steered him further away, hoping to allow some semblance for privacy for the process going on inside. "We'll move him in the morning. Going to have Vin hold on to him in the middle seat. Josiah up front with me. You and JD okay together crammed into the back, or do you want us to come back for you?"

The answer came from JD. "We're fine. We're all together in this, and none of us is staying behind. We're a team – remember?"

It was over an hour until Vin came out of the bedroom, quietly pulling the door behind him. He didn't speak as he walked over to the counter, grabbing a fresh bottle of water and rinsed his mouth, spitting into the sink before taking a second mouthful, swallowing this time. They watched him as he moved toward the chest in the corner.

"Don't open it. You don't want to see what's in there."

"Don't need to Chris. I've seen the results." He took a few more small swigs. "Don't know that I've ever seen anything like it - and could have gone my whole life happy with that."

_The others stayed put, giving him time to refocus himself. He finally moved over to a spot on the wall far from the offending box and slid down to the floor, tilting his head back in exhaustion. He didn't want to talk, but knew they need to hear. "There's the obvious. The right hand is a mess. I didn't unwrap it again since there isn't a damned thing we can do up here. I doubt there is much anybody can do for that matter. He was shot too – in the leg. That was probably back when all this started 'cause it's healed over. Bullet is likely still in there, and I'd bet the bone was damaged. He's got bedsores and spots rubbed raw from where he was lying, and from those damned cuffs. Burns, cuts, deep bruising. Don't think there was a way Taylor didn't hurt him." He paused, finishing off the bottle, dropping his head forward and closing his eyes. He opened them again quickly as the images of what must have happened flooded his mind. He lifted his head when he saw boots in front of him. JD stood there with another bottle of water, and a look on his face that clearly said, 'you aren't alone'. It was surprisingly effective. _

"He's dehydrated. And starved. No idea when he last ate anything, but what he's been getting hasn't been enough. No way to say what that's done to him either."

"We found him Vin. That's more of a miracle than I dared to hope for."

Vin nodded, opening the second bottle and sipping slowly. "He's gonna have one hell of a long fight ahead of him Chris."

"That's what we're here for."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Vin stirred slightly when Chris dropped a blanket over his legs. He hadn't expected to be able to sleep, but his body had other plans. Chris hushed him. "I'll look in on Ez. You stay put. He's gonna need you strong later on when we head home." He stoked the fire in the cast iron stove and picked something up before making his way to the bedroom. The door squeaked enough when it was opened to get Josiah's attention. He held a finger to his lips and stood, moving over to meet Chris. For a man of his size, he was remarkably silent.

"Can't say for sure if he is asleep or passed out, but he's resting. He's got more of a fever then he did, but I'm hoping that just means his body is fighting, even if he isn't." Chris raised an eyebrow to ask for an explanation. "Ezra hasn't made a sound. I know he's weak as a newborn right now, but even they can raise a fuss. He just doesn't even seem to be making the effort. I'm pretty sure he knows we're here, and who we are, but that doesn't seem to matter."

"Well, I can't argue with you - silence is not his strong suit. But with all he's been through…"

There was a shrugged response. "Maybe that's all, but I can't help think there's something we're missing here."

"Don't doubt it. Face it Josiah. This is hard on all of us, and I'd say we've all been knocked on our asses. This is – inhuman. And processing it, let alone dealing with it, is going to take some time."

Josiah smiled. "Psychoanalysis is my specialty Chris. You trying to put me out of work?"

"You've been a good teacher. Go take a break. I'll sit with him for a bit." Josiah hesitated. "Go on. Don't make me order you."

Chris pulled the chair close to the bed. The small lantern flashlight gave off just enough light to cast shadows that made Ezra gaunt face look even more hollow and pale.

"One of the first things we need to do when we get you home is get you a shave. That scuffy beard doesn't suit you at all." He didn't expect a response, but that didn't stop him from continuing. "Haircut too. Good thing there is no mirror here. You wouldn't be happy with that look." He leaned back on the seat. "We're gonna take care of whatever you need Ezra. All you have to do is hang in there. You've made it this far, so I expect you can do that."

He pulled out his pocket knife and looked down at the branch he had picked out of the woodpile and began whittling, with no goal in mind.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Ezra thought he'd been dreaming. Well hallucinating would probably be a better word. From the moment he'd heard the sound of a vehicle approaching. The sound of doors closing. The sound he dreaded most. The creak of the door telling him he was no longer alone. He'd been hoping against all rational hope that he would remain alone. That he would be allowed to die alone. If his Tormentor was back that was not going to happen. At least not yet. Eventually it would, but not yet.

Even the small amount of light that came through the door had been enough to hurt his eyes. He did get the sensation of night and day filtering through whatever it was outside this small room. But not this kind of direct light. If he could have, he would have turned his head but the strength to do even that simple task had long since left him.

The voice was not what he expected. There was something familiar about it, but not in a way to create the usual sense of dread. He just wished his head was clear enough to understand what he was hearing. He still knew his name when he heard it but couldn't understand why it was being spoken. Especially why it was being spoken in such soft tones. It was almost as if whoever was in the room with him actually cared. And that simply wasn't possible.

Then more voices. Familiar sounds and words. And names. They had come for him. He opened his eyes to confirm it and closed them again quickly against the glare. But it had been enough. Vin was here. With him. It was real. The realization was almost too overwhelming. For those first few minutes he felt nothing but relief and release. The first taste of clean fresh water was finer than any wine he'd ever sampled. He was almost able to ignore the spasms of pain it brought to his battered throat. When he felt a warm cloth touch him, he would have wept had he been able to summon a tear. The feeling of relief was ambrosia. The sensation of warmth and the thought of being clean overtook the discomfort that the contact was bringing. At least, for a moment. Then reality once again began to seep through. Shame, guilt and dread overtook the idyllic respite.

He did not deserve to be saved, let alone cared for and pampered. Especially not by these five men. He had cost them the sixth man and had to take responsibility for that. But what was happening now felt so good that it was hard for him to concentrate on that. Even as his injuries were tended, and each movement brought pain that ranged from ache to agony, he continued to marvel in the elation of being rescued. He closed his eyes and simply reveled in the moment.

"Bet one of Nathan's brews would taste pretty good to you now." Vin's words cut into him as deeply as any blade had. How could he have forgotten for even a moment that Nathan wasn't here to help because of his actions? He wanted to turn away from them all but didn't have the strength. He'd finally resorted to his only escape and allowed himself to fade into unconsciousness.

The next hours passed with him drifting in and out of awareness. Josiah and Vin tended to him. He didn't have the strength to fight off their tender ministrations and didn't have the voice to beg them to leave him. The others came and went from the room, all showing more concern than he could understand. He had a faint recollection of hearing Buck shouting at one point and thought that had to mean at least one member of the team was angry with him. Why weren't they all?

He awoke at one point to see Chris sitting next to him. He looked to be asleep in the chair. Turning his head as much as he could manage, Ezra spotted a bottle of water and a small wooden figure on the table next to the bed. Next to that, he saw his solution. A knife – Chris's knife – was within reach. His mind was still too foggy for him to be able to recall exactly why he wanted to die, but he knew that had been a consuming thought for some time now. Ending things would be such a relief, and there was his answer. He told his hand to reach for the blade, but nothing happened. He didn't understand. The chains were gone. He didn't feel the weight anymore. But his hand wouldn't move. By reflex he tried again to raise is right hand and gasped at the sharp shocks of pain that tore through him.

Chris was next to him in an instant, kneeling on the floor beside the bed. "Easy Ezra. Stay still. Moving isn't your best option right now. Shhh. Breath slow. That's it. Nice and easy."

"He ok?" Josiah was at the door, and Chris could hear the others moving as well.

"Yeah, I think so. Muscle spasm, or maybe a nightmare. Or both. Might have been trying to get the water." He went to offer a sip, but Ezra's eyes were closed again.

He was unable to bring himself to look at any of them. He heard the short discussion of who would spend the rest of the night, with Buck claiming victory. When the room quieted again after a time, Ezra finally opened his eyes. The knife was gone. He surrendered to his exhaustion.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

tbc


	9. Chapter 9

_**Warning: There will be some descriptive text in here, but nothing graphic. I am not marking it this time because if you haven't been reading the previous "bits" you should know the results. Again, I assure you - not graphic, but this time it is important to understanding the rest of the storyline**__. _

It was the urgency in Buck's call for assistance as much as the words that he said that had Chris on his feet so quickly. The others followed just a few steps behind but stopped at the door of the bedroom.

"His fever's up Chris. He got restless about a half an hour ago. Or as restless as he's capable of right now."

Chris may have been the one summoned, but it was Vin who was first to make it over to the bed. Gently, he placed his hand on Ezra's forehead. "He's right. Fever's definitely up. It may not be the best thing for him, but I think we better plan on moving out quickly."

"JD go start the car. Get it warmed up. We'll get everything put together." No one questioned Chris's orders.

It didn't take long; there wasn't much they were taking back. Josiah once again carefully lifted Ezra with Buck by his side to help. Vin made his way to the SUV ahead of them and positioned himself in the behind the driver's seat. They all quickly settled into place. Buck and JD squeezed into the back-cargo section. Neither was about to complain of discomfort.

The ride was quiet. Chris didn't take his eyes off the road, making a concerted effort to avoid anything that even suggested a bump or divot. He didn't completely succeed but did manage to do an impressive job. The bridge was every bit as intimidating now as it had been on the way up, but given there was no choice, they crossed with a forced sense of confidence, each hoping it would be the last time they ever saw the thing.

JD kept watch on his phone, waiting for the instant he could get a signal again. They'd each been assigned the calls to make, and he intended to be certain there wasn't a wasted second. The others sat quietly, each quietly making deals with any and all powers in the universe in return for getting them through this.

"We've got our signals." JD hadn't finished his sentence before calls were being place. Buck called the Judge, sharing the news and sharing a sketchy outline. It didn't feel right to describe how bad Ezra was hurt when he was lying in pain just a couple of feet away.

JD was calling the hospital, planning to get an air ambulance to meet them on route, saving Ezra the ride back into the city. No one reacted well to hearing his cursing as the conversation ended with 'We can get there faster this way.'

"What?"

JD leaned forward, resting his arm on the back of the back seat. "There's been some kind of accident south of the city. The air ambulances are tied up there. Figure it will be at least 40 minutes till they can send one."

One lousy break - was that too much to ask for? Chris slammed his hand on the steering wheel in frustration, causing the car to swerve slightly. In reaction, JD's arm slipped forward, and his hand lightly struck Ezra's leg. It wasn't much of a hit, but the sudden contact was an unexpected shock that brought whimper from the previously silent man.

"Damn it JD, be careful." Vin snapped at him. Again, Ezra reacted.

Josiah hung up from his call to Rain. "Steady Vin." He watched as Ezra's tremors increased. "He can tell you're upset, and that isn't helping either."

No one said anything for a moment, reining in the anger and exasperation. "Rain will let Nathan know what's going on and meet us at the hospital."

The only sound in the car was from Ezra as he moaned quietly again.

Travis was already waiting for them at the hospital. He had briefed the doctors with what little information he had on what to expect, although that failed to prepare them for the reality. Ezra was unresponsive as he was placed on the gurney and wheeled inside. Vin tried to follow but was stopped at the treatment room doors.

"We'll take care of him from here."

Reluctantly, Vin turn back to the waiting room and joined the others.

"Do I even want to know?"

"No. You probably don't Judge." Chris moved slowly to a far seat.

The next time the door is open it was to allow Rain to join them.

"Nathan's on his way. He was at physical therapy so it's going to take him a bit of time to get here. In the meantime I'm going to go inside. They keep telling me I'm the best trauma nurse around here, so I'm going to take advantage of that. I'll stay by Ezra's side." With what she hoped was an encouraging smile she hurried off.

Travis looked at his men. He knew he needed to talk to them. There were things that he been holding back, and now that this nightmare was beginning to be over, he was going to have to face facts. He also knew this was not the time. He couldn't put it off much longer, but anything he said to them now was only going to cause trouble. Saying it later was going to cause trouble too, but at least it would be under different circumstances. And hopefully, in a safer venue.

"I'm going to go back to the office. There're a few things that need to get taken care of, and I seriously doubt any of you are in the mood for it."

"I'll come by later." Chris offered. "I can't begin to imagine the ton of paperwork to go with something like this."

"Don't worry about it. But I do need to see you soon. As in tomorrow. Fact is, I need to see all of you. Nathan too. I want everybody in the office at 10:30 tomorrow morning. Make it in your office, not mine."

"Sorry Judge. No disrespect but we're not leaving this hospital while Ezra still needs us."

Travis was about to respond to Buck when the door is opened again. Rain came back into the room. They all froze.

"No. It's not that. He did come to enough to see me, and it seemed to upset him. His heart rate spiked, his BP went up. I don't know what it was, but it really seemed to freak him out."

Chris couldn't understand. Rain was a friendly face, one that he should recognize instantly. It should have been a comfort for him to have her there.

"You think he is too confused to recognize her Chris?"

Before answering JD, he thought back over the last hours, and the times Ezra seemed most agitated, and the pieces fell into place. "No, I think he did recognize her and that's the problem."

Vin was just a moment behind figuring it out. "Shit! All this time?"

Chris didn't bother to answer instead making his way toward the trauma room.

"You can't go in there."

"Trust me Rain - I have to."

He got the same comment from the doctor as he entered Ezra's space. He ignored it, pushing past him and going straight to the bedside. "Ezra? Ezra?" He had to repeat the name a few more times before getting some sign of response.

"Ezra, you have to open your eyes and look at me. I'm not going away until you do."

It seemed to take entirely too much effort, but Ezra's eyes opened slowly.

"Look at me Ezra. I am not lying to you. Nathan is alive. He was hurt but he's alive."

There was the faintest suggestion of the shaking of a head before Ezra began closing his eyes again.

"No Ezra, stay awake. Listen to me. This is not bullshit. I wouldn't lie to you about something this important. You know that. Nathan is alive."

He opened his eyes again, meeting Chris's stare. For a few seconds there was no movement whatsoever and then a soft sob escaped him. Chris smiled.

"That's right Ezra. He's alive he's all right. That's all you need to know for now. He'll be in here to see you as soon as you're strong enough. You understand?"

This time it was a small nod; it was one of the best things Chris had ever seen. He stood and stepped away from the bed, turning to the doctor. "I think you'll find him a little easier to deal with now."

The next two hours passed slowly. Every footstep that came near had them coming to attention, watching and waiting for any update. Buck paced anxiously, long strides crossing the room in very few steps. Josiah set quietly in the corner. Chris was relatively sure he was praying, although with Josiah it was sometimes hard to tell. Vin was, as usual, the quietest one in the room. He looked half asleep, slumped in his seat, but Chris knew just by watching that the man's mind was racing probably reliving the past 24 hours and thinking of all the things that he might have done differently. Now is not the time to point out to him that nothing in that time frame would have made a difference.

The first moment of animation in the room came with Nathan's arrival. They were all up to greet him, reassuring him that yes, Ezra was in fact alive. The look on his face clearly told how difficult it was for him to believe that. He wanted to see him for himself but was finally convinced but that simply couldn't happen right now.

"As soon as we're allowed in there, I'll make sure you're one of the first. He's been worried about you too."

"What do you mean Chris? Why would he have been worried about me?"

"Well, we're not entirely sure what happened, but we're pretty sure – check that – we know he believed you were dead."

Nathan stared in disbelief. "Dear God, he must have been torturing himself."

JD winced at the choice of words. "No, he wasn't torturing himself. Someone else was doing that for him."

"Don't worry about it right now Nathan. The only thing that matters is that he's all right and will be even better once he gets a look at you."

"But he's not all right, is he? I mean just from what you guys told Rain on the phone, he's in bad shape. Has the doctor said anything yet?"

"We're still waiting. I have a feeling it could be a while."

The room went quiet again as the pacing and waiting started anew. Nathan wheeled his chair to be next to Josiah, quietly asking questions that he wished he'd never heard the answers to.

The third hour was just starting when the door opened. Chris was the first on his feet, hoping for news. He was more than surprised when a delivery boy entered.

"I'm supposed to tell you this is from Judge Travis. And I'm also supposed to tell you don't argue just eat." He put the bags down on the table and left. JD went over and open them.

"Hamburgers, sandwiches, chips. No drinks. I'll find a machine." He was out of the room before anyone could respond.

"Where the hell does he get that energy from?" Buck looked at the array of food and shook his head. "I know this should be making me hungry, but I just don't seem to have much appetite."

"None of us do, but Travis is right. It's going to be a long couple of days. Hell, weeks. We aren't going to do him any good if we don't take care of ourselves."

JD arrived with the drinks, but no one made a move. Finally Vin step forward and dug into one of the bags, retrieving a burger. "Well, at least he ordered the good stuff."

Within 15 minutes everything had been devoured. None of them might have thought they had an appetite, but once they started eating it didn't take long to clear out the supplies. Josiah had just finished gathering the last of the garbage when the door opened.

The look on the doctor's face did nothing to encourage them. The man looked tired and drained; his face pinched with worry.

"We still have a lot more work to do, but I wanted to give you an update. I'm guessing you have already figured out that, by all rights, your friend shouldn't even be alive. He's dehydrated, malnourished, and badly hurt. He's in the early stages of pneumonia, but we've got him on antibiotics and hopefully that will cut it off before it develops into another problem."

Giving Ezra anything had Josiah worried. "What about the drugs in his system?"

"The tox screen came back effectively negative. Whatever he'd been given, he hasn't been dosed for the past few days. There are still traces of a number of substances, but nothing in an amount that has me worried this point. The list of meds that you provided makes for one ugly looking cocktail. On their own and in properly controlled dosages, the drugs wouldn't be a problem. The interactions between them is another matter. I would imagine they served to keep him well under control during this ordeal."

Nathan was sure there must be more to it than just that and said so.

"You're probably right. Most of those drugs have a rather long list of side effects, especially in conjunction with each other and his overall physical condition. They most likely would have induced a state of paranoia, depression, and confusion.

Gentleman I'm not going to lie to you. Mr. Standish has a very long road ahead of him. There's been organ damage from the malnutrition and dehydration. His kidneys are barely functional. We'll have to monitor that closely and will consider dialysis if things don't improve soon. There is some arrythmia, which is no surprise but again, being monitored. We're monitoring him for septicemia and osteomyelitis due to the infection from the wounds and bone breaks, although it is likely if those had been going to occur, we'd already know it. And of course, I mentioned the pneumonia." He paused. "And then there are the injuries. The wound to his leg has basically healed. He is far too weak at this time to consider removing the bullet, and it is to early to look at repairing the damage that was done to the tibia. Obviously the most severe and pressing concerns are the hand and his throat."

"His throat?" Josiah knew there was a reason Ezra had been so unnaturally quiet.

"I'm no expert, so it's difficult to say exactly what happened but he was either repeatedly choked or struck in the throat. Likely, both events were happening."

Silently cursing himself for not realizing there was another injury, Vin nodded. "That's why he wasn't speaking."

"Yes. Speech would have been difficult if not impossible for him at this stage."

The concept was shattering to them. Ezra Standish not speaking was an image that simply made no sense. It was unfathomable.

JD hesitantly asked what they all were wondering. "Is – is it permanent?"

"That's not something I can answer. I've got an otolaryngologist scheduled to come in and check his throat. Right now I can tell you there's damage to the vocal cords but as to whether or not it can be fixed, that's outside my realm."

"What about his hand?" Having been one of the few to see just how much damage there was, Vin was pretty sure he knew the answer.

"Again, orthopaedic surgery is not my area of expertise. But I do know one of the best in the field and will consult with her. But it doesn't take that kind of skill to recognize there's severe damage. If I had to hazard a guess, I would have to say what you probably already know. I doubt he will ever have proper use of that hand again. To be honest, I'm not sure that any function can be salvaged. For the moment, we have him sedated. The drugs he had been given appear to be out of his system, and it is important to keep him as calm and quiet as possible. He's got a lot to get past in the next couple of days, not to mention down the line."

"But he's going to be all right?"

The doctor hesitated, not wanting to give false hopes. "I wish I could guarantee that Mr. Larabee. He is incredibly weak at this point and it is impossible to say whether or not he can find the strength to get through this."

"Don't worry then Doc. If it's just a matter of finding strength, then I'm pretty sure he's going to be just fine. Ezra doesn't know how to quit."

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

_TBC_


	10. Chapter 10

Travis was waiting for them at the office. He'd already gathered the chairs around Chris's desk, and was sitting behind it tapping anxiously with a pencil. He didn't look up when the six men entered.

"I can only assume from the look on your face that we're in some kind of trouble."

"You have a real gift for understatement Chris."

"That doesn't make any sense. We just did the impossible; we found Ezra. How could we be in trouble?" JD was genuinely perplexed.

Buck however understood. "You don't get it kid. I'm guessing it's not that we found him, it's how we found him."

"How could it be our fault that he was hurt? I mean, sure, it would have been good to find him faster but - "

"That's not what I mean. I'm guessing the higher-ups aren't too thrilled with our tactics."

Judge Travis gave a sad smile acknowledging Buck's analysis of the situation.

"It's my team. Any shit that hit the fan should be landing on me."

"Some of it did Chris, but you know that's not how things work." He turned and looked at Buck. "We might as well start with the most flagrant violation. Wilmington, just what in the name of all that is holy were you thinking?"

"I take it you're asking about the shooting?"

It was a question they all had wanted to ask; what was going through his mind when he emptied his gun into Taylor's already dead body? There had been no reason for it other than pure spite, which didn't fit with the man's character. Not to mention the fact that that explanation was one that would not go over well.

"You're right. I was thinking vengeance, pure and simple."

Travis rested his head in his hands for a moment. "I don't buy that. It wasn't simple. Not your style. So, are you sure you can't come up with a better answer than that? Because it's not going to satisfy anybody."

"Satisfies me. Don't much care about anybody else's opinion. If it's any comfort, I can tell you it wasn't just random, Judge. Yeah, I fired the one shot that killed him. Saved JD, and maybe Vin. That alone was good enough reason."

"Nobody's disputing that Wilmington. It's the five shots that came after."

Buck leaned back in the chair and just smiled. "Had my reasons. That's all I'm saying on it."

It became a staring contest as Travis kept his eyes glued to Buck. It was a wasted effort; he had no intention of offering any more.

"One for each of us." Josiah figured it out.

Reluctantly, Buck nodded, so Josiah continued. "You knew we wouldn't shoot him then, no matter how much we might have wanted to. So you put one bullet in him for each of us. Kind of Vengeance by proxy."

It made no sense and at the same time made perfect sense. But it would not look good on the report. Travis just shook his head. "Well, whatever you think your reasons were, and however good you think they were it's not going to be enough. So, the review board has made an offer on settling this. You can certainly appeal it if you want, and I fully expect you will, but the outcome now is three months unpaid suspension, and no return to duty until you pass a psych evaluation."

Buck shrugged, but Chris did not take it nearly as well. "Are they out of their minds? Three months? Don't you think that's a bit excessive?"

"No. I thought the six months that they recommended was a bit excessive. I talked them down to three. I couldn't get rid of evaluation."

Chris was going to say more, but Buck silenced him. "Don't worry about it. It's better than I expected. Keeps me free to spend time with Ezra. He's going to need it."

Biting his lip, Chris silently vowed to follow up on this later. All he wanted now was to get this whole matter over with, and obviously the Judge had more to say. "You said that was the most flagrant one. What else have you got?"

Travis turn to look at JD. "Mr. Dunne, do you have any idea how many rules and laws you violated in the past month?"

"I'm guessing there were a few."

"A few? They lost count. You have violated dozens of protocols. You hacked into other agencies, into private organizations, into government databases. No warrants, no authorizations. Nothing"

JD stayed remarkably calm. "I was trying to find Ezra. That's all that mattered."

"I don't dispute your motivations, only your methods. Okay fine, I don't dispute them. But unfortunately, I am not the final word around here."

Now Buck got defensive. "You're telling me that JD is going to be charged with something? We never woulda found Ezra without him."

"As I said, I don't disagree. But there is not a court in the land that would accept the end justifies the means as a good defense."

"So just how much time do I get to spend sitting with Ezra?"

"Yours I couldn't talk back. You've got a six-month suspension. There will be no criminal charges, but there will be access restrictions when you return to work."

This was getting to be ridiculous, and more that Chris could accept. "I hate to repeat myself Judge, but are they out of their minds? Buck and JD should not be the ones getting suspended. I'm the team leader, it was my call all the way along. I'm the one who should be under suspension."

"Funny you should say that. They felt the same way. You've got three months off as well." Travis couldn't look Chris in the eye when he said that. He couldn't really look at any of them. And as bad as all that had been, things were about to get worse. "When you return to duty, it will no longer be as team leader. And it will no longer be with Team 7. There won't be a Team 7."

That succeeded in leaving them all in stunned silence. Josiah was the first to find his voice.

"They're breaking up the team? Now I have to agree with Chris. They're nuts."

"This really shouldn't be coming as a surprise to you. You know the bureaucrats on high have never been fond of the way you guys do your jobs. They like the results, but not all of the hassles that go with it. Yes, you have more commendations than anybody else. You also have more violations of protocol than the other teams put together."

Once again, Chris couldn't hold his temper. "That's bull. We've never done anything that overstepped."

"You expect me to believe that? I just finished laying out the charges against JD. And that's on one case. Don't lie to me Chris, I know what you guys do. I've turned a blind eye to it for far too long. Because yes, I like the results too. I like getting the scum off the streets, and you seven have a remarkable talent for doing that. But I can only cover for you for so long."

Josiah stood, saying nothing. He made his way out of the office and walked over to his own computer.

"Sanchez?"

"I'll be with you in a minute Judge."

Silent since this started, Vin finally looked up and spoke. "Let me guess, we're all being sent to separate teams."

"I think if they could, they'd send you to separate cities. But yes, you're all being reassigned."

"Not all." Josiah re-entered the room. "You'll find an email in your in-box Judge. It's my resignation. I've thought about retiring for a while, and this seems like a good time."

Chris looked at him. "Are you sure? I'm guessing that's what they're expecting."

"Then why should I disappoint them?"

Travis would have loved to have been able to argue with Josiah, but all things considered, it would have been too ironic. "What about you Tanner?"

He shrugged. "Out of curiosity, what do they have in mind?"

"With your sharpshooter skills, I'm sure they have something appropriate lined up."

"Well, I hope it's not something that's irreplaceable. Because I'm with Josiah on this. Everything you're doing – sorry - everything **they're** doing is asinine. If this is what the ATF has become, I want nothing to do with it. I'll send you an email as well."

Nathan had a sly smile on his face. "Well, Rain will be happy to see me out of the business. Besides, I'm not sure I would have made much of an agent anymore anyway. I don't really see myself happy in a desk job and that was going to be all that was open to me. Any of you ever tell Ezra that, and they'll be hell to pay."

None of this was surprising, but it was disappointing to the judge. "I tried to tell them this was going to be the likely outcome. They didn't seem to believe me." He turned and look to the three men on suspension. "Is it safe for me to assume that I'll be passing the same message on your behalf?"

"What do you think?" Chris stood slowly. "This isn't meant as a reflection on you Judge. You know that. But these conditions, these results after everything that this team has done, and all we've been through, it ain't right."

"I know it isn't. I told them the same thing. Not that anyone listened."

JD forced himself to smile. "It's going to be awfully quiet for you around here from now on. You might actually have a chance to enjoy yourself a little bit, without having to make excuses for us all the time."

"Oh, I'll be enjoying myself. But it won't be here. Evie wanted me to retire sometime ago. She was quite happy when I told her that effective the end of the month, I am no longer working for the ATF."

"You didn't have to do that judge."

"Yes. I did. I like to think I have at least some of the same moral compass that guides you." He stood. "OK. I'll pass the word along. I'll see to it that you have a few days to clear things out here."

"Won't take that long. There isn't much we need to worry about."

"No," Chris corrected Buck. "There are a few things. We'll need a day or two in here. Can you get us that?"

Knowing better than to ask for details, Travis merely nodded and headed out.

"Just what is so important that won't fit into a couple of plastic bags." Buck questioned.

Instead of answering directly, Chris turned to JD. "Can you get into Ezra's computer?" Getting a nodded response he continued. "Run a back up of everything involved in this case. Everybody needs to do the same."

"There something you aren't telling us Chris?"

"If they're treating us like this, we can't expect they'll be any better toward Ezra. I just want to be sure we have everything on record, in case he ends up needing anything. His medical records should say all that needs to be said, but I'm not taking any chances."

JD was already searching out files. "I have no idea how he codes his files. There is nothing here labelled Taylor."

"Anything close?" Chris remembered the missing letter from the initial report.

"No – no names at all. I'm just going to copy everything from the last year, and we can sort it out later if we have to." He hesitated for a moment. "You want me to erase anything?"

"NO! I know you're good JD, and they'd likely never find out, but I'm not playing games with this. I want the proper records, and I want us all to be able to swear under oath on that. Ezra'd have a fit if we started lying on his account."

That raised another point. "Chris – how do we tell Ezra that we all quit because of this?" Vin didn't think there was a good answer for that one.

Neither did Chris. "We don't. Not yet. We can make up excuses, or even tell him we're suspended if it comes to that. But until he is in one hell of a lot better shape than he is now, we don't piss him off."

"You know he'll see right through us?"

"Maybe, but let's try not to make it too easy."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

He had no idea how many times Ezra had opened his eyes when the others were around, but by Buck's count, this was the fourth while he'd been there. The doctor kept assuring them that it signified nothing; the treatment he was getting now was keeping him out of it for at least another 48 hours and would be continued it there weren't better indications of improvement. Buck didn't care. Every glimpse he got of those green eyes convinced him Ezra was closer to coming back. It meant he was fighting, and that was enough for now.

Buck scanned over the still form again, looking for signs of trouble. They'd been thoroughly briefed on what to watch for. There wasn't much they could do for him, but there was one way to help. The muscles spasms were getting stronger. What had started as small trembling as the muscles struggled to contact whenever Ezra even thought about moving had advanced to twitches. This apparently meant the nutrients being pumped into were starting to do their job. It was a long, slow process, but movement in the right direction. Unfortunately, it was painful movement, as dormant limbs reacted to those contractions and cramping became more frequent. Heating pads were stacked near the side of the bed. Each time Ezra began having stronger cramps, heat was applied. Seeing a trembling at the right calf, Buck reached for one of the devices, pushing the button on it that somehow was turning the gel to warming solution. He cautiously lifted the blanket and after wrapping the pad in a towel, rested it under the leg. A moment later the movement settled, and Buck gently replaced the blanket, reminding himself to remove the heat in a few minutes. He turned his attention back to Ezra's face, watching for any sign that the activity had registered with him. As he expected, there was none. That didn't stop him from commenting as he sat down.

"Sorry about that Ezra. Hope I didn't startle you or anything. Those spasms look like they're getting stronger. Everybody keeps telling us that's good, though I'll be damned if I can figure how you being in more pain can be good. Guess I'm not all that good when it comes to seeing the big picture."

"You do tend to focus on the details." Vin entered the room quietly. "More cramps?"

"Went through five of those heat things in the last two hours." Buck stood again, stretching his arms above his head, hoping to let some of the tension escape. He looked as his watch on it's way down. "You're early."

"Not like there's much else to be doing. Chris is out at the ranch yelling and screaming at anyone who tries to talk sense to him, so I didn't bother."

"What's eating him now?"

Vin shrugged. "Beats me. Just frustration, like the rest of us, I guess." He paused. "You don't think he's really going to sell, do you?"

"Nope. He's venting. When things get out of control, and he can't find a way to bring them together, he always considers chucking it all and basically running away from it. Never once seen him really take a move in that direction, just a lot of talk."

"Not the running type."

"Closest he ever came was after losing Sarah and Adam. Even then, no matter how dark it got, I knew he wouldn't cave in and completely surrender. She wouldn't have wanted it, so he wasn't going to let it happen. But it was touch and go for a bit."

"And this time?"

Buck grinned. "Oh, not a chance. He's gonna come to the realization that at this point the ranch is our safe house. Common ground that we all need to stay sane, and he'll find a way to hold on – again."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Rain stood in front of Nathan, arms folded in front of her and trying to look cross. She was succeeding, even though she didn't really feel as angry as she was acting. "You do understand that when the doctors said you could leave the hospital, they actually thought you would be going home." When she realized he hadn't gone home to rest, as he had been told to do after finally being discharged, it hadn't been hard to track him down.

"I can rest here every bit as well as I can at home. Better. And if I have a problem, I'm close to help." He didn't take his eyes off the bed as he spoke.

"Thought this was Josiah's time to be here."

"He is here. I sent him down for some lunch. Expect he'll be back with something for both of us soon." He turned his gaze to her, putting on his innocent look. "Want to share?"

She huffed gently. "You are infuriating."

"Yeah, but you love me anyway." That just got another huff out of her, but this time she couldn't maintain the stern face.

When Nathan turned his attention back to the bed, she followed suit. "They've started reducing his sedation. He's been showing the first signs of coming around. He's really doing amazing well under the circumstances."

"I'll believe that when I can talk to him."

"You know that could still be a while. Even once he wakes up, it's hard to predict how much he is going to comprehend what's happening around him. What he went through with that monster, and what he's dealing with as a result – Nathan, you guys need to be ready for the idea that he may not be responsive to you."

They'd been warned, repeatedly, of the possibility. Words like catatonic and vegetative had been used, scaring them more than any would admit. But they also knew things the doctors didn't. They'd talked to Ezra at the cabin and he had reacted. Even more importantly, he'd seemed to understand when Chris told him that Nathan had survived. They couldn't – wouldn't – believe that Ezra would slide back from that. They also knew just how stubborn the man could be. He hated to let lose – to anyone. And especially to sons of bitches like Taylor.

"We know. But the doctors don't know him. We do."

She was going to comment further, knowing she was wasting her breath, when a change from the monitors caught her attention. Josiah entered to see them both staring at the readings and he focused his attention on the bed.

"Well there my friend, are you going to stay awake for a few minutes this time?"

Ezra's eyes were barely slits. Truth be told, he was afraid of what he'd see. If this had all been some kind of induced hallucination, he didn't think he could handle it. The brightness of the room that forced his eyes closed quickly also convinced him instantly he was no longer locked away in the wilderness. It was a moment later that he registered the soft mattress and the warm blankets. It was real. He forced his eyes open again, noting the room had darkened in those few seconds.

"Sorry Ezra. We should have thought of the lights. You just take it slow and easy. Your safe now. Lie still. You're in the hospital Ezra. Do you understand me?"

Rain laughed softly. "Give him a minute to react Josiah."

He looked around slowly at the now quiet room. Yes, he was safe. He was truly safe. Josiah was here. It wasn't another dream. And Rain. Then his eyes found Nathan. He froze, not sure he wasn't just seeing what he wanted too. Nathan stood slowly, leaning on crutches and support from Rain as he moved closer to the bed. Through rapidly blurring vision, Ezra maintained his stare. He didn't even shift when he felt a tear run down his cheek and blinking away further tears wasn't an option. He was certain closing his eyes for even a second would end all of this.

"Yes Ezra. I'm here. Forget what you saw and everything that bastard told you. I'm here, and I'm alright." He gently laid a hand on Ezra's shoulder, making the contact he had wanted to for so long now. He wiped at the tear, and almost pulled away when a soft gasp came from the bed. "Just relax Ezra. It is going to take some time, but things are going to be alright."

There was a hesitation, a fear the came to Ezra's face for just an instant before he began trying to move his lips. He wasn't sure if he could form a word, let alone vocalize it. Seeing the effort, Nathan tried to silence him.

"No Ezra, you shouldn't try to talk. Your throat was hurt, and it needs time to heal. Talking now is only going to irritate it. You don't have to say anything."

It didn't stop him. Ezra kept trying to find the strength and reserve to have his say. The thought sent chills through him, but it had to be done. Ignoring the warning he weakly gasped out a single word.

"Sorry." It was rough and raw sounding, and the feeling was salt in an open wound. He wanted to scream out but couldn't. He could only mouth the word again.

"What the hell for Ezra? You have no reason. Good God man, I'm the one who left you alone with that son of a bitch." Ezra tried to speak again. How could Nathan say such a thing. He was thrown from a van. Leaving had hardly been his idea! "If I hadn't insisted on going after him on matters that weren't our business, none of this would have happened."

Ezra was still trying to respond, and Rain watched with growing concern as his blood pressure and heartrate both increased. The stress was clear.

"Enough. Both of you stop." She stepped closer. "What is it going to take for you to understand the only person to blame in this is the monster that did it? And he is gone. Dead. It's over. The only important thing now is that you both get better, and this crap isn't helping. So, and I say this with love and affection, shut up and be grateful."

"Well said my dear." Josiah smiled. "She really does fit in quite will with out little band, doesn't she?" He winked at Ezra, relieved to see at least a little of the tension fall off. He knew this was far from over, but for the moment, it was dealt with.

Nathan nodded, making his way back to his chair. "OK, I'll accept that if he does. We have a deal Ezra? Ezra?"

Rain checked his vital signs again and set their minds at ease. "Looks like he's drifted off again. You can expect a lot of that for some time to come. But this was good Nathan. Not that he got upset, but that he was alert enough to do so. It's a good beginning."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

He had never opened his eyes to an empty room before this moment. Countless times he'd been greeted by a friendly and reassuring smile or word. Every time in the last – well however long it had been – someone was there. A seed of panic sprouted. Where were they? Why leave him alone now? He looked around. Yes. Alone.

The sound of flushing and running water turned his attention. It was just seconds later the bathroom door opened and Buck stepped out with a towel in hand. He quickly tossed it aside when he got a look at Ezra.

"Dang. Sorry Ez. I just – well, when ya gotta go – you know what I mean?"

Ezra felt ridiculous, and was sure his face was turning red. The small smile that came to Buck's face confirmed the suspicion. "Ah, now don't worry about it Ezra. You are going to be stuck with having at least one of us around for a while."

He was grateful but confused by the sentiment. The care he needed during the few short moments he was awake could easily be provided by the more than competent staff, but Buck was right. He wasn't being left alone. At all. Of course, that burgeoning panic attack was proof that the surveillance was a good thing, but something seemed off about it.

"Stop fretting Ezra. We're here because we're your friends. Nothing more to it than that. You need a friendly, and in my case irresistibly charming, face around, and we aim to make sure you have that."

Obviously, he had lost all ability to camouflage his emotions. That wasn't exactly a revelation. It seemed to take every bit of energy he could draw on just to follow what was being said. He just wished he could ask for the details. They kept shushing him, as if he needed to be told not to speak. His throat still felt like he'd swallowed broken glass. The efforts to get him to eat were just this side of torture – barely. The cooling sensation of crushed ice was the only thing he could truly tolerate, but he forced himself to try when the others encouraged him to try the puddings, soups and unpleasant purees that were qualifying as meals.

Nothing had been said to him about his hand. The memory had come back to him on the moment he'd been maimed, and no matter how hard he tried to block it, it invaded his conscious and unconscious thoughts. The dull throb was a constant reminder, but the subject was the elephant in the room, ignored by everyone. The closest they ever came was if he tried to move his right arm. Gentle but very firm hands held him still, with no one willing to meet his eyes during those moments. Even Chris, who could be counted on to not shy away from harsh reality, ignored the obvious.

It was no better when the doctors were there. They were vague in their descriptions of his health, saying only he was doing well. He didn't believe them; he hurt too much for that to be true. He knew he was being given something to dull that discomfort, but it didn't obliterate it. He also knew that if he felt this foggy, and was still in pain, he it had to have been bad.

These consultations with the doctors were the only time the others left the room. He'd heard them say something about giving him privacy and his dignity. Had he been able to, he would have laughed. Dignity after what he'd endured was a concept that no longer existed. Every time he thought about what they had seen when they found him – the condition and state he was in – he was mortified.

"Ezra? You still with me? You look like you sort of wandered off there for a minute." Buck's smile was still plastered on, but the concern in his eyes was stronger. Ezra nodded to try to diffuse the worry. It didn't work. "You have to stop fretting so much. We got your back Ez."

The worst part – well, one of worst parts – was that he knew that to be true, and regardless of their words and deeds, he remained unconvinced that he deserved them. They were there for him, constantly. And it was a far greater relief than it should be. There was a time in his life Ezra had learned that counting on anyone, for anything, was a futile action. The only person he'd been able to put his trust in was Ezra P. Standish. He didn't like it, but he accepted it, and had learned to lead his life accordingly. Now, things were radically different. The constant attention and morale boosting efforts were indisputable evidence. And a small part of him hated it. Hated feeling so dependent on anyone else. Despite the past two years, it still was not a sensation he was completely at ease with.

"You're doing it again. Josiah was right – you overthink things Ez. Just relax and let yourself get better."

How? He wanted so badly to ask. He mouthed the word, but Buck had glanced away at the sound of the door opening. A young nurse entered, looked at his chart and monitors, then smiled quickly before leaving.

"She's married." Buck explained his lack of action, grinning boyishly.

How, Ezra mouthed again.

"She's wearing a ring – oh, that's not what you meant." Buck tried to recall what he'd been saying before the pleasant distraction. "How do you get better? Well, you can start with doing what your supposed to, which is eating and resting. Gonna take some time for you to get your strength back. Although I gotta say, you are looking a lot better than you did a week ago."

A week. Had it really been seven days? The memories were so vivid he still felt like he was in the middle of the whole nightmare much of the time. He couldn't shake the feeling that was never going to change.

"I know it is nothing compared to what you've been through Ezra, but you have to know these past couple of months have been hell on everyone. Watching what Nathan went through and going out of our minds trying to find you. And when we did – well shit Ezra, I'm not gonna lie; that was just about the worst night of my life, seeing you hurt like that. But it was also the best, because you survived. And you're still here and still fighting, even though I'd guess you don't really feel like you are." He stopped, knowing he wasn't getting his message out. "What I am trying to say is, as tough as this is, it's better than it was. And it's going to keep getting better. We aren't going to accept any other outcome – you understand? We aren't gong to let you not win this."

Ezra nodded, not because he believed it, but because he knew it was what Buck wanted and needed to see.

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7 M7-M7**

**tbc**


	12. Chapter 12

**_Please note: Italics in this and future chapters do NOT indicate a scene to be avoided. The graphic parts are over. _**

Under any other setting, it could have passed for a typical evening for the boys. All of them sat around the bed on an assortment of chairs and stools they had scrounged from the area. It was a celebration, marking the end of the first full day that Ezra had been back with them, alert and, they hoped, on the road to recovery. Food wrappers filled the garbage can, and Buck and Josiah were still working on a large bag of potato chips. They'd tried to hide the food when Ezra woke up, deciding it was cruel to eat in front of him when he could barely handle broth, but he waved his hand to indicate they should continue. It was nice to be part of something that bordered on routine again. They'd been discussing plans, long term plans, as if they really expected things to return to normal. It had actually been quite pleasant, and he found himself relaxing just a bit. Buck brought up riding, and the horses and Ezra couldn't himself. "How's Chaucer?" he tired to squeak out.

"Damn it Ezra. We told you not to talk!" Chris snapped at him in a gut reaction to how painful and raw the voice sounded. The doctors had advised that while speech was possible, he was only going to make things worse by pushing himself before things had healed.

Ezra hand went up to his throat in a defensive gesture as he pulled back as far as the bed would allow. His eyes widened in sheer terror and the monitor screamed out alerts as his heartrate almost doubled. He stopped breathing, stopped reacting, frozen after the initial reflexive movements.

Chris stared for several seconds, too shocked to react. He couldn't count the number of times he had raised his voice to Ezra without getting any kind of reaction, unless you counted dismissive sarcasm as a reaction. It was second nature to him to put the man in his place, for all the good it usually did. Never did it cross his mind that something like this could happen.

The others were equally stunned. Partially at the fact Chris would bark at Ezra like that, but more so at the consequence. Nathan was the first to come out of his stupor but wasn't able to move as quickly as he'd like. Josiah was just a few seconds behind and did make the move to the bed.

"Easy Ezra. Nobody is going to hurt you. You know Chris would never hit you Ezra. You need to calm down son. You need to breath. Just a few shallow breaths to start. Can you do that?" He carefully placed his hand on Ezra's chest, massaging softly to try to stimulate a reaction. He didn't get the one he wanted, as Ezra tried to pull further away. Speaking softly, he kept trying to calm things down. "No, please don't try to move. You need to stay still Ezra. Nobody is going to hurt you. We just want you to settle."

"Shit! I didn't – I wasn't trying to order you Ezra." Chris didn't know whether he was doing more harm than good by trying to talk to him. "You know I'm not going to do anything to you, don't you?"

He was saved the need to comment further by the arrival of the floor nurse, who quickly parted the team and stood at the bed, adjusting the flow on one of the multiple IV's still feeding into her patient. Her voice silenced the others.

"Now there Mr. Standish, I thought we had a deal. You were going to be allowed to visit with your friends as long as you stayed nice and calm. You don't strike me as the kind of gentleman to go back on a promise, so let's see if we can get you settled." She cast a quick glance around the others, sending the clear message they were to leave – now. Chris lingered, telling her without saying a word who was at fault here. She focused on the bed, able to see that the meds were doing their job as the tension began to lessen on Ezra's face. His eyes focused on the room, and she knew he was coming back to the present.

"Now, we're just going to let you catch your breath. Don't worry. You won't be alone." She hesitated for a second, then continued. "Your friend here is going to stay with you, if that's ok?"

That was the last thing he wanted. Not out of fear. He knew there was no reason for that. The notion was absurd. And it was because he was so certain of that simple fact that he now felt nothing shy of total humiliation. The idea that he would panic over a comment from Chris was mortifying, and to have to face him now was more than he thought he could handle. But if he said no, he knew it would be misconstrued. He closed his eyes and offered a barely perceptible nod.

She smiled at him and made her way out, giving Chris a brief touch on his arm and speaking softly. "It's hard on all of you. Don't beat yourself up. Trust me, all of you being here is what he needs."

She pulled the door closed behind her and made her way toward the cluster of anxious faces at the end of the hall.

"Mr. Standish is fine. Attacks of that nature are to be expected after the trauma he's been through. In fact, I would have expected more, and worse."

"Doesn't help having Chris be such a damned fool."

"I wouldn't be so quick to condemn him Mr. Wilmington. Whatever happened to set this off could have been something blatant, or something inconsequential. And I am sure Mr. Larabee feels quite enough guilt without anyone adding to it."

Buck had to concede that was likely true. He made a note to himself to remind Chris of that.

"What about Ezra?" Vin asked. "What do we do to try to avoid this happening again?"

"You can't. He will have moments, and from what I know about him, he will likely do his best to conceal them. The monitors should help prevent that. The important thing is that you not make a big deal out of them. Try to get him to accept that they are nothing to be ashamed of, and the best way to do that is by not treating him like fragile crystal. "

"So what? We're supposed to tell him to just get over it?"

"No, of course not Mr. Dunne. But if he thinks this is upsetting and worrying you, he will be further agitated. and it will just create a vicious circle. Let him know you care, and that you are there. That's really what he needs most right now."

JD grinned. "Hell, that's easy."

Back in Ezra's room, there was silence. After a few minutes of trying to get comfortable in the bed again, he gave up and settled for just being still. Chris started to offer to help, then pulled away, certain that any contact would just set off more problems.

"I don't have to stay Ezra. I can get Vin or one of the others in here if you'd rather." There was a small shake to deny the need. "Ezra, I'm sorry. I never thought. Should have, but I didn't. You got hurt for talking, didn't you? That's ok, you don't need to try to answer. No matter how much you might drive me crazy with your $20 words and smart-ass comebacks, you know I'd never hurt you Ezra. It's just the doctor said you shouldn't talk until you heal up more. That's all I was trying to say."

Ezra opened his eyes and forced a weak smile onto his face. Chris would spend the night trying to make things right otherwise, and that wasn't something either of them needed to have happen. He nodded again, more firmly, hoping it sent the message he understood. And hoping it was a matter they would not discuss again – ever.

Chris settled into one of the chairs. "OK, I'll just settle in here for a bit. You go ahead and get some rest." He wanted to say more, but didn't know what it should be. For now, just being here was going to have to be enough.

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

"Well, I know Judge Travis would like to come by. Says Evie has been asking after you daily. And Mary -" Chris stopped speaking when he noticed Ezra shaking his head. He also noticed the small spike in heartrate. He hoped he hadn't triggered another event. "Ezra, they're your friends. They've been worried is all."

"Casey and Miss Nettie too." JD added.

Ezra tipped his head back onto the pillows that were helping to keep him propped up. He hoped to appear casual about it, but in truth he was trying to fend off another anxiety attack. He'd made it over 36 hours since that first dreadful incident and wanted to keep that streak going. He'd forgotten that the monitors would give him away. Damn. He was already fed up with being so far off his game.

"Look, you don't want company, we'll tell them you're not ready. But they won't be happy about it."

Still shaking his head, making certain the message was clearly understood, Ezra closed his eyes and concentrated on calming himself down before his reaction brought a parade of medicos in to attend to his latest crisis. This was not who he was, damn it. He'd made a career – a life – out of being impossible to read, and now every reaction was open to full view. Even without being strapped to a virtual lie detector he knew his emotions were too close to the surface to be concealed in his usual manner. And without being able to speak yet, it was all but impossible to misdirect the matter.

JD watched the discussion from his seat in the corner. He felt the frustration that was growing. Not just now, but for the past couple of days that Ezra had been awake and what was passing for communicative. It didn't take any special skills to figure out that the limits on his ability to inject himself into the conversation was eating away at him. The tension was building as they all strained to keep things appearing normal. The six had agreed to keep the ATF news from him for as long as possible, knowing the explosion that would result.

Under normal circumstances there wasn't a chance in hell that would work. Ezra had a sense about when people tried to keep things from him. It's what helped him survive. Chris was the same. Hell, they all were. But now, with all of his energy going into just getting through another day, Ezra hadn't seemed to notice things were off kilter. Or if he had, he attributed that to his own condition, and likely felt bad about it. And about not being able to express that. There had to be a way to deal with that.

JD tapped his straw rhythmically on the empty pop can, twirling it from time to time. It was the same aggravating habit he'd had at the office when he tried to reason things through, although there it was usually with a pencil. He couldn't count the time one of the others had grabbed it out of his hand when they got fed up with the tapping. It was usually busted in half immediately after and then –

"Damn it." Chris turned when JD cursed under his breath.

"What?"

"I'm an idiot. Well, we all are." Chris didn't seem particularly pleased by the assessment. He didn't necessarily feel he could deny it, all things considered, but specifics would help make that call.

Before he could ask, JD was on his feet and rummaging in his case. He dug behind his ever-present laptop and found paper and pencils. He quickly cleared the water glass and unread magazines from the side table and swung it around over the bed. "We have seen you shuffle left-handed, deal left-handed, and shoot left-handed. Why it didn't dawn on any of us you could write left-handed is a mystery." He held the pencil out.

Ezra didn't make a move. He knew it was only a matter of time until one of them thought of this. He was glad he hadn't placed a bet, since his money was on Vin, with Josiah to place and Chris to show. JD, with his passion for all things technical, hadn't entered into consideration. Yes, he was ambidextrous. There was very little he couldn't do with the left hand, a trait he'd developed over the years in the event of emergency circumstances. In his worst nightmare, these were never the circumstances he'd envisioned.

"You going to take the pencil?" JD held it a few inches closer.

It wasn't that he didn't want to or didn't think he could. The truth was, this would be the first step down the road that would lead to the unavoidable entreaty for him to share with them what he was feeling - how he was coping. There was no avoiding that discussion but postponing the inevitable had a definite appeal.

"He may not be ready kid. Might need more time to get his strength up." It sounded like he'd been right. The tone let him know that Chris had considered the idea but was holding off. Not surprising.

JD dropped the implement on the table top self-consciously. "Oh, right. Guess it might be tiring. I could bring you a computer instead Ezra. Maybe easier type than write? I've got a couple smaller ones at home – lighter and maybe easier." He was rambling, nervous that he had pushed too far, too fast.

Ezra shook his head. He hated the fact that being around him made them all so edgy. He slowly reached out and picked up the pencil. He shifted, hitching himself into a more upright position. Chris fought the urge to help him, sensing Ezra needed to start doing more things for himself. That simple move of retrieving the pencil had been a good start.

_The pencil is fine JD. Thank you. I prefer to write._

"Holy crap Ezra. You write better with your bad hand than I do with my good one."

_This is my good one, JD. _

"Damn. I didn't mean –"

Ezra waved the protest aside. It wasn't fair to take his frustration out on someone trying to help.

_No visitors yet. Please. I am too tired to try to deal with that._

"You don't have to put on a show for them Ezra. They just want to see that you're ok. Folks have been worried."

There was more to this than just fatigue, and Chris was pretty sure he knew what it was. The fact that Ezra was embarrassed or ashamed was ridiculous. Beyond ridiculous. But that was the most logical explanation for the behaviour. He'd talked about it to Josiah, who agreed. Ezra wasn't good at losing, and in his mind, that had been what happened here. Despite the desire to give him a long lecture about how thoroughly asinine he was being Chris followed the advice given and backed off, for now. If things didn't turn around he would straighten the matter out, but for now there were enough issues to focus on.

"OK. I'll let them know you appreciate the thoughts, and we'll set something up when you're up to it. Maybe you'd like to write a little note?"

_Perhaps in a day or two I will feel more up to this task._ He nudged the table off to the side but rested his hand on the materials when JD made a move to retrieve them.

"Sounds good. We'll leave them here in case you need to write anything else. Or if you want to - you know, talk about anything."

And so it begins, Ezra thought.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

tbc


	13. Chapter 13

He couldn't believe a week had gone by as he stepped off the elevator and made his way to Ezra's room. It was nice to be getting off somewhere other than the critical care unit. Ezra had been moved the day before. He was no where close to being ready to leave the hospital, but the improvement had been impressive, and the doctors said the tests had determined he was stabilized enough to be settled into a space that offered him a little more privacy, which is where Vin was headed now.

JD had volunteered to go by Ezra's condo to pick up a few things to help make the place feel more like home. It smelled musty after being locked up for so long. They'd been collecting his mail and making sure bills were paid, but no one had actually gone in there since this all started. JD gathered a few books that were near the bed. He grabbed the dressing gown from the back of bedroom door and picked up slippers as well. Chris had warned him not to bring any clothing, not wanting to put ideas of leaving into Ezra head. He had looked around for something else to personalize the sterile hospital and smiled when his eyes landed on a team photo. That would do the trick nicely. After leaving a couple of windows open enough to start airing the place out, he headed out, promising himself he'd be back to fix it up right when Ezra was ready to come home.

As Vin approached the room, he could see the door propped open at an angle, and Nathan sitting in the hall.

"He's sleeping. Kinda restless, and I didn't want to disturb him. Knew you were coming soon, so I figured I'd wait out here for you."

Restless worried him. "Something wrong?"

Nathan shook his head. "No, I think he's just adjusting to settling in again." He paused. "Well, there could be more. We had a little 'chat'. He's probably got writers cramp. Writes like he talks – in multisyllable words."

"No point in doing things the easy way. You two get things sorted?"

There was silence as Nathan mulled the answer. "I think so. We've both been taking a lot of self abuse over this. Each thinking the other resented them. Kind of foolish when you really start to argue it out."

"I believe we've been trying to tell you that for some time now."

"Just because I don't come across as pig-headed like some of you doesn't mean I can't be every bit as stubborn."

Vin smiled. "Oh, we know you're stubborn. See that every single time one of us gets hurt. Ezra see the light on this as well?"

"That's what he wrote. Not sure if I believe him, or if he does for that matter. But if I read him right, he's moving in the right direction. Anyway, the whole discussion tired him out, so don't be surprised if he doesn't wake up for a while."

"Not a problem. You headed home, or more physio?"

"I can do most of my exercises there so home it is. Call if you need anything."

Just as predicted, Vin spent the first two hours of his time with Ezra watching him sleep. Just watching. He didn't mind; it was his way to try to reassure himself that the nightmares he had each night when he went home weren't real. He kept recreating what Ezra had gone through, and each time the ordeal got worse. Throughout each painful moment he was calling out for him, for them, and they simple stood on the sidelines, watching. When the nightmares started, they were at least trying to help, but as the week progressed, they became less active in their search. Vin woke drenched in sweat each time, gasping for breath. He would flop back on the bed exhausted. The first few times he had called whoever was sitting with Ezra just to make sure nothing had happened. He stopped doing that in part because he didn't need the others thinking he was going nuts on them. It was bad enough he thought it. So, now, he just watched Ezra sleep. He'd done the same thing yesterday, and the nightmare after hadn't been as bad. He hoped it was just going to be a matter of time until he was finally able to believe this was over – for all of them.

When the doctor came by to check things over, Vin left Ezra his privacy, moving down the hall to the lounge to wait. He briefly debated grabbing something to eat from the vending machine, but deep-seated doubts on the freshness of the products killed his appetite. Settling for a weak, lukewarm cup of coffee instead, he sat down where he could keep an eye on the closed door. Chris's arrival caught him off guard.

"Didn't expect you this afternoon."

"Had to come in to town for some business, so figured I'd come by. Doctor with him?"

Vin glanced back at the room, then down at his watch. "Yeah – for longer than usual." His tone matched his concerns. "It's usually just a few minutes, but this is pushing half an hour."

Chris looked down the hall. That didn't feel right, and his sense for trouble was on high alert. He strode quickly to the room, with Vin close at his heels. When they got there both men stopped, and Chris leaned closer to the door. He could hear Dr. Sinclair's voice, to low to make out exactly what was being said. Visually confirming his decision with Vin, he rapped on the door as he entered.

Sinclair was at the foot of the bed, hands resting on the railing. Ezra's chart was balanced precariously on the side, looking like it would fall at the slightest movement. That movement was unlikely to come from Ezra at the moment, as he sat propped up, tension holding him tightly in place. His jaw was set firm, brow furrowed, and his eyes blazed with anger. The two held their locked gaze, ignoring the new arrivals.

"Want to tell us what the hell is going on here?" Sinclair turned when Chris spoke.

"Mr. Standish and I were discussing his prognosis. There is no reason for you gentlemen to be here."

That certainly explained the anger. "I would guess the discussion is done for the moment. Doc, I'd like to see you outside for the moment. Vin, you best stay with Ezra."

Vin was next to the bed before Chris finished speaking, grabbing the chart and shoving it into Sinclair's hands. He pulled the chair next to the bed and turned his back on the departing duo.

"Ez – if you don't relax that monitor is going to short circuit on you. I don't think it's designed for the numbers to go that high."

He hadn't moved an inch, although his eyes had followed Sinclair out of the room. Even now, as the door closed, he continued to stare.

"I mean it Ezra. Look at me. Calm down. You have a seizure or something, they are going to start sedating you again. You want that?"

Still not moving, Ezra closed his eyes. He wanted to be alone but knew there was no chance of that. Not only would Vin not leave, but if he didn't get himself under some kind of control, the others would likely be summoned as well. He was in no mood for an intervention and had to do what he could to avoid it. The last remaining damned monitor meant he couldn't fake his way through it. He had to genuinely settle himself down for this to work and couldn't begin to fathom how he would pull that off.

Things were no better on the other side of the door. Chris didn't have to fight to keep his voice down. The angrier he got, the quieter he became, and right now he wasn't sure the doctor would even be able to hear him.

"What the hell did you tell him?"

"The truth Mr. Larabee. Our evaluations are complete, and I have informed him of the outcome."

"I'm his representative. You should have been telling me."

Sinclair shook his head. "No. While he was unconscious or unable to rationally make his own decisions you had power of attorney relating to his care. But he is out of intensive care and has long passed that point. Technically, you no longer have any say in the matter." He took a step back when Chris moved closer. "Of course, given the level of involvement you have shown, and his willingness to share information, I see no reason you need to be kept entirely out of the loop."

"This isn't about being in the loop. This is about telling a man who is still weak and vulnerable that everything he values in his life is changing. And doing in when there is no one around to support him."

"He has the right to know his prognosis. Withholding the information will not benefit him."

Chris took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. This guy didn't get it, and now was not the time to educate him. There were more pressing matters. "What did you tell him?"

"I'm not certain –"

"Look, he can't tell me, and we need to know if we are going to help him. Now, you shared everything else, and we know how bad he was hurt. The question is, what's next?"

It took a moment for the doctor to come to his decision. In that time, Chris could hear Vin's voice from the room, trying to settle Ezra. It didn't sound like it was working well.

"The good news," Chris turned his attention back to Sinclair, who clearly had decided it was safest for all concerned to open up, "is that his overall physical condition is improving, which you already knew. He has fought off the pneumonia, and while there are still residual after effects from the dehydration and malnutrition, his kidney, liver and heart have all stabilized. I expect we will see no evidence of long-term damage." He paused, but Chris said nothing.

"The same can be said for most of the other injuries suffered. He may want to look at some plastic surgery for some of the scarring, but aside from the trauma involved, those injuries too will have no lasting effects."

Aside from the trauma. Well he tossed that little gem off lightly. Chris didn't need to be told about the trauma. None of them did. They'd all seen it when they sat with Ezra. The restless sleep. The pinched face as he relived the pain. The lack of spark in his eyes – in his attitude.

"We have decided against surgery to remove the fragments in his leg. When he was shot, there was some bone splintering from the impact. The wound has healed around those, and in light of everything else he is dealing with, that surgery would be an added burden to his health."

"Won't affect his movement?"

"He was fortunate that the bullet struck below the knee. While there was bone damage, it wasn't as severe as it might have been. There may be a limp, which again can be addressed in part through physical therapy. Down the line, and by that, I mean several years down, he may require having joint surgery done, but it is not a priority."

As far as Chris was concerned the only priority was getting through all of this. "Obviously you're saving the worst for last."

Sinclair nodded. "The damage to his throat is another matter. While serious, it does not seem to be as severe as we initially feared. Our expert, Dr. Dawson, believes that with some relatively minor reconstructive surgery and with the fullness of time, Mr. Standish should regain the ability to speak normally."

"Ezra has never spoken normally." Chris allowed a lopsided grin. "Part of his charm. How much time?"

"It will likely take several months for full recovery."

"And the hand?"

Sinclair was quiet for a moment. "Dr. Anderson has reviewed all of the x-rays and scans. There doesn't appear to be anything substantive that can be done to reconstruct the damage. It would require extensive work to allow even marginal improvement, and the level of pain from the procedures would be intolerable. There may be a solution to that, but it is too early to make that call."

He'd expected that. In his heart, he'd known it from the moment he first saw the injuries. And every time since then when he saw the pain on Ezra's face and the fear in his eyes every time the man tried to move the hand, consciously or otherwise. That didn't make hearing it any less gut-wrenching. If this was hard for him to hear, he couldn't even imagine what it had done to Ezra.

"You didn't think, for an instant, that he should have someone with him when he heard that?"

"Your friend had written to me that he wanted the prognosis given to him in private."

That gave Chris pause. He had no idea Ezra had been trying to keep things from them, although he knew he shouldn't be the least bit surprised. He remained convinced that the "P" in Ezra P. Standish stood for Private. "What Ezra Standish wants, and what is good for him are two things that are usually worlds apart."

"Be that as it may, I have to abide by his requests. Now, if his welfare is truly your primary concern, don't you think you should be in there with him now. You can berate me later, at your convenience." The doctor sidestepped Chris and went on his way, not looking back.

Chris watched him leave, caught by surprise. Annoying as it was, the man was right. Out here in the hallway fighting with a man for doing his job was not the place to be. He moved to open the door and paused. After a brief hesitation he texted Buck. "Get everyone to hospital but wait downstairs." He waited, and as he suspected, the reply was quick in coming. "He OK?"

Is he OK? That couldn't be answered this way. "Physically, yes. Emotionally, not so much. Will explain to all of you. Vin is already here."

"We'll be there in 30 minutes."

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

_**tbc**_


	14. Chapter 14

Pocketing the phone, Chris squared his shoulders back and put his determined face on as he walked in. He needed have bothered. Ezra didn't look at him. Didn't even glance at he door. As much as he was able to, he had turned on his side, back to the entrance and staring out the window. Vin was perched near the foot of the bed, talking to the back of Ezra's head.

"You can pretend to ignore me all you want Pard, but I know you can hear me, so I'm not stopping. That was one opinion. We can get more. There's lots of experts out there." He turned to face Chris, shrugging and shaking his head. "I am beginning to see some of our old Ezra again here Boss. He's got a stubborn streak in him almost as bad as yours."

"Not even close. Ezra, you going to look at me?" There was, not surprisingly, no movement. "Fine. I'm not going to lie to you. This sucks, big time. But Vin is right. It isn't the end of the world. We've gotten through worse than this."

He'd expected that to get a response. A rebuttal of some kind. But still, no reaction. "We've all had our nightmares Ezra. About this. About all kinds of shit. And we've survived them. We'll survive this."

We? Ezra wanted to scream. **We** don't have to survive this. You are all perfectly fine. I. on the other hand – damn – am not. Yelling inside his head was far less satisfying than the real thing, but he knew if he turned to face them, he would lose the tenuous grip he had on his control. On top of everything else, he was not going to let them see him fall apart. He was a Standish, and that carried a certain amount of pride – deserved or not.

He reached out for the now ubiquitous pen and paper on his table. Shifting just enough to be able to write, and still keeping himself from facing them, he scribbled quickly.

_Alone. Please. I need to process this._

"Yes, you do. But not alone."

_I_ _disagree_.

Vin laughed lightly, not really feeling it. "Of course you do."

_At least a few minutes. I assure you I will do nothing to make you regret your absence._

He still read them all too well. "We aren't worried about that Ezra. Just don't want you to have to deal on your own. We'll be down in the lounge. Back in about half an hour to look in. OK?"

It was hard to be sure, but Chris thought that was a small nod, so he signalled to Vin, who was equally reluctant to leave.

"You need us, you push the buzzer there. Light goes on and we'll be right back."

Chris held up a hand to silence Vin until they were well out of hearing distance.

"I texted Buck and he's letting the others know to come in. Might as well give Ezra some breathing room until they show up."

Vin sighed deeply as he sat down. He had dared to hope that things were getting better. That there was a light at the end of this particular tunnel. He hadn't expected it to be a freight train bearing down on them. "Did the doctor say anything to you about prosthetics?"

"Shit. No. He just said the hand wasn't going to heal."

"Ezra wrote the word but didn't put anything else. His hand was shaking so bad I could hardly read it."

"Wonder if that was the solution he meant." It was unimaginable. Chris couldn't imagine the news set well and he was rethinking the idea of leaving Ezra on his own.

He realized he'd zoned out when he noticed Vin walking past him, and he grabbed a sleeve to stop him. "He's got a right to privacy Vin."

"I know. I'm not going in. Just going to stretch my legs a bit."

"Stretch them in the other direction. He'll buzz if he needs us."

An arched eyebrow conveyed doubt at that suggestion. Chris just shrugged. "We can't force him to ask, and we can't force ourselves on him either. He'll shut down further if we try."

The same comments were repeated about 25 minutes later when the others got the update. Stopping them from swarming the room was more of a challenge that it should have been. No one came right out and said that as he was no longer the boss, Chris had no authority over them, but it was clear they were thinking it. It was also clear, after a few moments of discussion, that he didn't need the official title to still hold the position. They were going to do as he asked, out of a deeply rooted of respect and the simple fact that they had to accept of the truth of the matter.

As discussion turned to the debate over who was going to stay with Ezra, the soft chime from his room silenced them all. Josiah was closest and was almost to the door when he stopped. It dawned on him that as far as Ezra knew, only Vin and Chris were here. He might not be welcoming of other guests at this point. Chris passed him and entered the room as the rest of the team waited. He was only a in there a moment before opening the door again, waving them in.

Ezra was still turned away. They could see his ghosted reflection in the window. Eyes closed, looking stressed and angry. And lost.

"Ezra wrote us a little note here. _I deeply and truly grateful for your presence and your obvious concerns for my welfare. I assure you all that this news, while decidedly unpleasant, is hardly unexpected. As it will be some time still before I am able to speak, I will instead have too put into writing how appreciative I am for your desire to be a part of this process, but I do have to insist that you allow me to make my own decisions on the matter. It has been some time now since I have had any jurisdiction over my life, and you must allow me the opportunity to maintain the somewhat limited control that I do have." _

"You really expect us to just sit back and say nothing?" Buck challenged, trying to keep any hint of accusation out of his voice. "Because I can't see that happening."

"I think," Josiah hoped to settle things before they got out of hand, "that this is not the time or circumstance for **any** of us to be making any decisions. You may have been expecting this news Ezra, but I doubt you were ready to hear it. We sure as hell weren't. And as much as it's going to pain us, we will agree to whatever you decide is best for you. But you can't ask us not to care. Not to try to offer some advice if we think you need it. We just aren't built that way."

It was quiet enough in the room to hear all the sounds of the hospital around them. No one moved or spoke for several minutes, waiting for some sign that Ezra was hearing them. When nothing happened, Vin finally spoke.

"OK. I'm here for dinner tonight, so the rest of you can get back to whatever you were doing." No one moved. "Go on – git."

Slowly, they began to turn and shuffle out, each one glancing back hoping Ezra would signal them to stop. Chris leaned in close to Vin. "I'm in the lounge. You call me – understand?"

Vin nodded as he steered Chris out. "I got this."

He closed the door and move the chair in the room out of Ezra's line of sight. Before sitting, he walked over to the far side of the bed and squatted down to be face to face, making sure to keep enough distance to keep him from feeling crowded. "I'm not leaving. Not yet. You want to write something, I'm here. You don't, well that's fine too. Josiah said it Ezra. You can be as distant and as stand-offish as you like. Ain't gonna stop us from caring. We went through too much to get you back. So you deal in your way, and we'll deal in ours. But remember, ours is to be there for you."

He moved over to his seat and settled in for a quiet stay.

Ezra would have loved to tell them all to go home and never come back. He wouldn't have necessarily meant it, although at this moment if certainly felt like he did. The fact that Vin stayed behind was definitely irritating him far more than it should. He couldn't help but marvel at the irony. He had spent weeks longing, literally aching for their company, and now all he wanted was for them to leave him the hell alone.

Josiah, with his comforting words of wisdom in that resonant tone. Buck and the constant cheerful optimism. JD with his boundless enthusiasm and declarations that things were getting better by the second. Reassurances from Nathan that if he could come back, then certainly Ezra's own injuries were surmountable. Chris's firm and determined encouragement, promising things were going to get back to the way they were. And Vin, here now. Calmly and simply stating their support and commitment to stick with him, no matter what came next. The promise they all gave that together, they could get through whatever life dared to throw at them. Everything he had wanted to hear for so long, and now it felt hollow and somehow cruel to him. Taunting him with a reality that simply did not exist. He felt like he was being tortured yet again.

His head knew it was wrong to equate and of this to what Taylor had done. There was no comparison – no plane on which the two worlds collided. Those actions had been evil, and vile, and vengeful. The work of a psychopath. What was happening now was diametrically the opposite. But both scenes tore him apart, pushing him in ways he never imagined could happen.

He lay there, unmoving, contemplating what he was feeling and could reach only one conclusion. Taylor had in fact won; had succeeded in his goal of destruction. Because no sane man could be pulled apart by conflict the way Ezra was right now.

Closing his eyes, he willed the world to simply go away. The team with their solicitudes. The nurses and the doctors who by word and deed so efficiently delivered the news that life as he knew it was over. The people in the courtyard below his window who were laughing and enjoying life. The list of visitors waiting until he gave the approval for them to come and gawk at him, drowning him in pity that he neither wanted nor desired. All of them needed to be gone. He wanted solitude more than he ever had in his life.

He began rocking slowly in his bed. It was a reflex. The feeble effort to show there was still some degree of life in him. It was the best he could do, and that angered him as much as anything he'd been thinking. The action morphed slowly into a shaking that came from his soul. Rage, fear and self-loathing combined to build a tension he couldn't seem to fight back. He could hear the monitor as the alarm set off and that was the final straw. He sobbed out, screaming as he did, not caring that it seemed to tear his throat apart. Not caring about any of it.

There was no strength in him to fight off the arms that pulled him upright, gripping him tightly while carefully rubbing his back. Vin's quiet voice telling him to settle; to take slow deep breaths. The only break in the words was when he turned to order everyone else away. "I have him. I've got this."

He rocked along with Ezra, trying to bring a more calm and settled pattern to the movement. He murmured what he hoped were reassuring words, repeating them over and over to let them work their way through the shock and terror that had taken such a firm hold. He didn't stop speaking when he heard Chris at the door, pausing his massaging action just long enough to wave him off. He had no idea how long he sat on the side of the bed, leaning awkwardly to keep the connection. Feeling the strain on his back, he knew he was going to pay for this tomorrow. It didn't matter. He wasn't going to move.

The trembling slowed, and eventually was little more than a vibration. Vin could feel the warm dampness of tears on his shirt and could finally hear a more steady rhythmic breathing. He moved cautiously so as not to startle or alarm. Ezra was limp. He doubted it could be called sleeping. Exhaustion had brought on this state; he had passed out. The monitors were showing vital signs were still elevated, but at least closer to normal again. Vin pulled the blanket high, tucking it around to keep Ezra warm and enveloped. He paused his hand on the shoulder, massaging again lightly.

"Sleep Ezra. You won't be alone, no matter how hard you try."

He looked up when a shadow fell over the bed. Chris was holding out a coffee to him.

"It's moderately warm and tastes like sludge."

Vin grinned. "So – it's perfect." He sipped at it, wincing at the taste. "Or maybe not."

"You should get go get some rest."

Vin didn't move, staring back down at the bed.

"I mean it. Draining yourself isn't helping him."

"Think he'll remember this, or will it all have been just a dream?"

Chris wished he could lie. "He'll remember – and hate it. Another reason you shouldn't be here when he wakes up. Give him time to come to terms with the fact he dared to show he was human."

"He's been holding most of that in since he first woke up. He needed to let it go."

"You know that, and I do. Now we just have to hope he sees it that way."

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7

tbc


	15. Chapter 15

The symbolism of the bright, sunny and perfectly clear day was lost on Chris. He was oblivious to everything except the sight he spotted near the hospital entrance as he drove in. He slammed the car door and crossed the parking lot in record time.

"So help me Tanner, if you've been sitting out here all night, I am going to take a strip from your hide!"

"Steady cowboy, before you get security breathing down on us. No, I have not been here all night. About an hour is all. And, for the record, you aren't due here until much later today either. Take it Josiah showed up last night?"

Chris took a deep, theoretically calming breath. "Yeah, around midnight. Texted me that Nathan came in this morning. You get some sleep?"

The shrugged response was the no he'd expected. "Spent most of the night cleaning out my place. Packing up shit. Kept me busy."

"Why?"

"End of the month coming up. Looking for someplace cheaper now that there isn't a steady paycheque."

The thought chilled Chris. Given where Vin was now, he hated to think of what might be cheaper. "You can't be broke already?" Vin was hardly a spendthrift. He tastes were modest and his expenses few. Aside from losing at poker more often than he should, usually to Ezra, he had no real vices.

"I've got savings. Just don't want to burn through them to fast. Besides, seems like a good time for a change. And before you panic, I'm not leaving town. But was thinking of looking for something away from the city for a while."

"Got just the place."

"Nope. I'm not moving to the ranch Chris. I appreciate the offer, but I don't intend to freeload."

Chris laughed. "Oh, it won't be free. Trust me. I've got plans for the place, and I'm gonna need some help. Working on getting Buck to move out as well, but he doesn't want to leave the kid without a roommate right now."

"If JD gets that job at the college, he won't need the roommate."

In a perfect example of who you know being every bit as important as what you know, Evie Travis had come to JD's aid. Being good friends with the dean at a small local college, she had recommended him to take over for a computer sciences instructor going on maternity leave. As a temp job, he didn't need to have the full accreditation for teaching, acting more as a counsellor than anything else. It was a given he'd qualify, even if it wasn't his dream job.

"Needing a roommate isn't really the problem. It's the idea of leaving him on his own. But, getting back to the matter of your plans, there's the cabin out back. Needs some work, but it shouldn't take to long to make it livable."

"I'll think about it. Sounds good." He looked up toward where Ezra's room was. "How was he last night?"

The two men began strolling the hospital grounds, too restless to sit still.

"Slept through while I was there. Barely moved. Josiah said the same. Woke up once or twice when the nurses were checking on him, but I think he was too exhausted to really notice. He'd been holding all that in for too long. Not surprising that it drained him so bad."

"It really didn't solve anything."

"Solve, no. But I have to think it made a difference."

Vin wasn't as sure. Ezra was a lot more complicated than that, and showing emotions was high on the list of things he avoided. He said as much to Chris, adding "I'd bet most of what I own he won't want to see me."

Chris grinned with a glint in his eye. "To show you just how wrong you are, I'll take a variation on that. He fights seeing you, and I won't pressure you into moving out to the ranch. He doesn't, and I'll expect you moved in by the end of the week."

"You fight dirty."

"Yup. Come on. Let's go see if I win."

Nathan was leaning against the wall in hallway as they walked up and put his phone in his pocket by the time they were next to him.

"He's fine. JD called to ask if we needed anything. Didn't want the call to wake him up."

"Still sleeping?"

"Not so much still as again. He was awake for a bit, doing some writing. Must have thrown out about 10 pages before he seemed to settle on something. The doc came by to check on his throat. Guess the nurses let him know what happened."

"And?"

"It's inflamed some, and likely hurts more than it did, but it doesn't look like any more damage was done. Strict orders to not even think about talking for a while, let alone doing it."

Vin said a quick prayer of thanks. The scream last night had been gut-wrenching to hear, and he could only imagine what it had cost Ezra.

Nathan was still speaking. "He'll be sucking back ice for most of the day. JD said he'd bring some popsicles."

"Sounds about right." Chris tilted his head to the room. "Is he up for company?" When Nathan nodded, they quietly opened the door. Ezra was settled back on the raised bed, facing slightly away from the door. He looked mostly asleep, but Chris saw the tensing of the body as soon as they entered.

"Morning Ezra. If we're intruding…?"

Busted! Ezra opened his eyes, not making contact, but at least looking in their direction. He waved his hand to indicate they should take a seat then picked up the glass of ice chips again. Putting it down, he rested his hand on a single sheet of folded paper on his tray. Hesitating for just a moment, he picked it up and handed it to Vin, who took it but didn't open it.

"You don't need to say anything Ezra. If this is some kind of apology or –"

Ezra shook his head, still avoiding connecting with any of them.

"Just read it Vin." Chris spoke softly. Whatever was in there, they could work on talking sense into him later. For now, keepin things calm was the main – the only – concern.

Not wanting to, Vin opened the note and look down. A warm smile came quickly, and he fought to speak through the lump in his throat. He showed the two word note to Chris as he turned to face Ezra to reply.

"You're welcome Ezra."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

There was only so much cajoling, coaxing, lobbying and guilt-tripping that a man could take before deciding it was easier to accede than challenge. Ezra reached his breaking point after 4 straight days of gentle but not subtle pressuring to expand the list of acceptable company. He'd finally agreed to seeing a few more friends, and it wasn't too long after that the visitations began. It hadn't gone as expected. Visits were awkward and uncomfortable for all parties. Ezra couldn't get past the need to try to hide his injuries, and the efforts to accommodate his denial made for extremely stilted conversations. Judge Travis and Evie stayed for just a few minutes, begging off a longer visit on the basis of not wanting to tire him out. She cried most of the way home, while simultaneously trying to sort out the best way to make the next trip better. Mary Travis also stayed only a short time, promising that when Ezra felt up to it, she would bring Billy by to see him. Ezra had written a terse and firm note to Chris entreating him to ensure that the youngster not be allowed anywhere close. It terrified him to imagine what the boy would think to see him in this state.

The only visitor willing and ready to confront things head on was Nettie Wells. No surprise there. She had never failed to speak her mind directly, no matter who she was talking to.

"Now Vin tells me you're been being your usual stubborn self again. Just like you to think you're above asking for help when you need it. Well let me tell you, I intend to see to it that you do not make life any harder that it need be for these men, and that means you start doing what you're told. Honestly, how you've managed to get along all these years without a lick of common sense is a mystery I will never be able to figure out. And don't think I don't see that smirk on your face. Well laugh all you want Fancy Man. I mean what I say, or I wouldn't say it. You understand me?"

Ezra bit down on his lip to keep an unexpected laugh from escaping, fighting the overwhelming urge to wink at Casey and JD, who stood nearby flabbergasted into silence. Vin likewise struggled to keep a straight face as his friend laid down the law. Knowing when to behave appropriately, Ezra meekly nodded obediently and wrote _Yes Ma'am_ in his notebook. Nettie stood abruptly after that. "Good. 'bout time you learned how to listen." The harshness faded from her face as she lost composure for just a moment when she saw the genuine gratitude that Ezra was trying so hard to hide.

"You – you just rest up. I don't want to have to be scolding you like that again." She leaned over and to everyone's complete astonishment gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Casey don't dawdle. We have errands to run here in town." She turned as was gone before anyone could speak, with Casey calling out her goodbye's as she ran after her.

_Can we agree now that this experiment is over, at least for the time being? _He handed the note to Vin.

"Yeah Ezra. I think we best hold off a while before we put you through another lecture like that. I'll tell Inez to wait a few days."

"While we are on the subject of visitors," Chris paused until he was sure he had Ezra's attention, "do you want one of us to contact Maude?"

It was hard to avoid laughing at the shocked dismay on Ezra's face. He scribbled frantically, almost illegibly. _Good God - no! What has she been told?_

"Nothing yet. We didn't contact her when you were missing, since there was no information to give. And since you've been back, I figured we should wait until you were stronger."

Ezra sighed with relief. _Not sure I will ever be that strong!_

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Hospitals were dreary at the best of times, but after hours it was worse. The comparative silence was oppressive, leaving a man with no option but to be alone with his thoughts. For Ezra, that was not a good place to be these days. He wasn't naïve enough to think that anyone believed he was handling things nearly as effectively as he was trying to present, but they had all been eerily respectful of his need for privacy. Not that they weren't watching for so much as a hint of a problem, as was evident when the smallest sigh in their presence brought on a wave of concerned looks and solicitous comments. It was enough to drive Ezra to the brink of a tantrum, were it not for the obvious consequences.

It was past visiting hours, but Ezra knew that meant nothing to his set of visitors. He was getting to be quite good at knowing who was approaching purely from the footfall. When Nathan came through the door, it was no surprise. The fact he was stopping by this late was another matter. There was no point in pretending to be asleep. For one thing, it would not eliminate the discussion, only delay it. And the other reason, Nathan would see right through the deception.

He opened his eyes and smiled his greeting, hiding his reaction to seeing Nathan pull a chair up to the right side of the bed. They all tended to avoid sitting there.

"Have a good day Ezra? Sorry I'm not getting by more often, but this physio stuff can be tiring. You'll be finding that out for yourself soon enough." When there was no response, he continued.

"It's worth it though. You know, when I first came out of surgery, I was pretty sure I was done. Never had anything hurt as bad as my leg did, even with the stuff they were giving me. Wondered more than once why I wasn't lucky enough to just die and be done with it."

Ezra looked up at him in shock. It had never occurred to him that anyone else would feel that way. Certainly not someone as level headed and practical as Nathan. He had always imagined he was alone in that sense of desperation.

"Yes Ezra, I spent moments wanting to die, knowing it would be easier than the battle that was ahead of me. But then I remembered all the rest. Rain and all of you being the highest point on the list. Keep in mind, we weren't at all sure we were going to find you, and I knew what that was going to do to us. Losing me as well, that would have been more than they could handle. Not saying that to brag or anything – I just know how they feel, 'cause I feel the same."

He paused, giving Ezra a chance to absorb what was being said. It was clear this was a bit of a bombshell to him. A small part was kind of pleased he had finally managed to surprise Ezra with any piece of news. He just wished it had been something less drastic.

"You want to write anything?"

Ezra shook his head. He wasn't ready to put his scrambled thoughts into words, let alone any that might be written down for the others to read.

"OK. Change your mind, just let me know." He reached out and gently lay his hand on Ezra's air pressure cast. It was the first time any of them had taken such a step. "I have some idea of what this all about Ezra. Not just how much it hurts and such, but how much it scares you. I wish I could tell you everything was going to be okay. I've got way too much respect for your intelligence to try to con you like that. It's bad. Maybe real bad. But the one thing you have to keep in mind, no matter what happens, how bad things are, your hand is not who you are. You will get through whatever happens, because you are more than that, and because we all need you to."

Ezra finally reached out for the note pad. _I am not certain that will be enough._

"It's going to have to be. It may be all you've got right now, or at least all you can use. There's more to you, but I doubt you believe that right now."

_I am not the man you are._

"No, you're not. You are your own man. That doesn't mean better or worse. Just different. But if you're trying to tell me I'm better or stronger or braver – well then Ezra, I have to tell you, that's just nuts. You're a man we are all proud and pleased to call friend. That should say all you need to hear."

Ezra shrugged, putting down the pen. He wasn't up to arguing the point, and couldn't bring himself to meet Nathan eye.

"OK. I know I gave you an awful lot to deal with all at one. You get some rest. I'll just sit here with you till you fall asleep."

Nodding slowly, he settled himself down into the pillows, wishing he could buy what Nathan was trying to sell him.

_**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**_

**tbc**


	16. Chapter 16

Buck made his way to the stables, hoping Chris had been having a good day. It looked like some progress was being made around the place, but it was still early going. The new expansion area for the stables had been marked. It looked like he planned on doubling the size, which made sense. If he was going to turn the ranch into a proper business, which would include boarding stables, he was going to need the space. In the distance, there looked to be markers for extending the grazing lands as well.

Buck figured things would start moving along faster now that he was going to be able to move in out here. JD was going to rent out the basement flat at Nettie's since she was so close to the college. He didn't seem overly enthused about it. Being that close to Casey was definitely a plus, but having Nettie watching that closely could put a crimp in things. Still, in a bad situation, you made the best of things wherever you could. Besides, it was well past time for the kid to be out on his own, in a manner of speaking.

Work would move along even faster once Vin settled in as well. Probably for the best that he wouldn't actually be in the house. Chris had been on his own too long out there to have two housemates so fast. And Buck was sure all that nonsense about house rules and cleaning up after himself was just talk. They'd been friends far too long for the man to expect miracles.

"Cowboy? You out here?"

"Thought you knew better. Do I need to add that restriction to the rules?" Chris was knocking dust from his clothes, looking like he was willing to knock something from Buck as well.

"Ah, relax. Place is looking good."

He put his black hat back on as he cast his gaze around. "Better, but not near where things need to be."

"Bank sign off on the loan?" The look was all the answer he needed. "Damn. Why not?"

"Doesn't seem like they are all that keen on handing money over to a man with no job."

"You've got collateral. Wait, let me guess. You didn't want to risk losing this."

There was a small shrug. "Going to talk to the judge about what I would need to do to sever part of the property and borrow against that. At least keep some of the land and the house safe, just in case this all blows up on me."

"On us. We are in this together. I've got some savings."

That brought a genuine smile. "Yes, I can imagine how much you've stashed away over the years. Probably have enough left after your dating habits to purchase at least a few square feet."

"I've got severance coming from the job."

Chris shook his head. "We quit. That only works if we get fired or laid off."

Buck stared at him. "Shit. Really?"

"Didn't you look at any of the paperwork you were signing? Of course not – why did I even ask?"

"Uh – about that rent I was promising you?"

"Don't worry. I plan to take it out in labour. You'll be earning the roof over your head. How did things go with Ezra this morning?"

That was a matter he'd been hoping to avoid for a while longer. "Not one of his best days. I guess Nathan was with him last night. He wrote that they'd had a good 'talk'."

"But?"

There was a moment of hesitation, clueing Chris in that this was serious. "Come on in and I'll get us coffee."

A few minutes later they were at the table and Buck was reluctantly filling in details.

"Josiah called while I was there. I thought Ezra was asleep, so guess I wasn't being all that careful about what I said." He ignored the eyeroll. "Anyway, Josiah was telling me about the deal Harrington is trying to cut with the DA for the information he gave us."

"Bastard still thinks that should get him off?" The anger simmered.

"He can think what he wants to – it ain't happening. When I hung up, Ezra was looking at me. Real confused. He finally wrote Harrington's name on his paper. Shaky. I just nodded and started to tell him what the DA said, about a cold day in hell when he'd make a deal. Ezra went real pale. Thought he was going to have another attack at first, but he settled some. Then wrote Alive?"

Buck took in long sip on the coffee, trying to move past the memory of Ezra's face at that revelation.

"He looked down at his hand for a few seconds, then seemed to just withdraw in on himself. Almost like going into shock of something. Took me a couple minutes to prod him into telling me what was going on. Seems Taylor thought we'd killed Harrington in the initial raid, and he took that out on Ezra."

Chris was silent as he processed the implications. "Son of a bitch." He finally whispered as he put it together. "We took his right-hand man…"

"…and he took Ezra's right hand. Or damn close to it."

Not really wanting the answer, Chris looked at Buck. "You think if we'd done some kind of press release that he was still alive, Ezra wouldn't have been tortured that way?"

"We've spent too much time together. I said the same thing to Ez. Once he calmed down some, I tried telling him we were sorry, but he waved it off. Said it wouldn't have mattered if he was dead or in prison, Taylor would have done the same thing. Likely would have found another excuse anyway – man was a lunatic after all."

"He really that calm about it?"

"No. He wrote down a few times that it was all for nothing. I think in a weird way it was easier for him to accept what happened when there was a reason, however insane it was. Knowing Harrington is alive seems to have taken that away."

"Like he needed another jolt." Chris pushed aside what was left of his drink. "Think I'll head in to see him."

"Not a good idea. You show up early, and he'll feel bad about putting the schedule off. Don't make more of this than he already has in his head. Whatever Nathan said to him last night seems to be helping him cope."

"Nettie's threats didn't hurt."

Buck smiled. "Yeah, JD told me about that. I want to be around when Inez has a go at him too."

"You just want to see Inez again."

"Well, our absence can't be helping her business. We should head over for lunch one of these days."

Chris laughed. "Eating out isn't in your budget at the moment my friend. Or have you forgotten already?"

"Right. How long to I have to work for you before I can ask about a raise?"

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

Ezra had never thought of himself as claustrophobic. He didn't need the great outdoors to feel comfortable. In fact, the great indoors was generally far preferable. Give him a comfortable chair, some fine wine and pleasing music, and he would be perfectly content to stay within the four walls of most any room. Add a decent card game and it was close to bliss. But as he had none of those things at the moment, he wasn't anywhere near content.

Staring out the window of his room was not going to make the difference. He was tired of watching the world go by at a distance. His requests to be allowed some freedom were still being vetoed. Concern remained high that his body was not up to dealing with any challenges, and apparently the medical experts had determined that every bacteria or virus within a hundred miles would make a beeline for him and launch and attack should he dare to place a foot outside these hospital walls. The team had tried to compromise, wheeling him to the solarium several times over the last few days, but it wasn't the same. It didn't help his case that he seemed exhausted after each such outing.

"Ezra, you can't push yourself so hard. It ain't even three weeks since we found you, and the healing takes time."

JD nodded enthusiastically in agreement with Buck as he polished off another of Ezra's popsicles. He'd been bringing them for over a week now, but Ezra rarely tasted one. He had not been able to figure out a way to enjoy the treat and still look dignified. Watching JD wipe the drips from his chin, he knew he'd made the right decision.

The duo was his company for the afternoon. He continued to work at convincing the men, after writing what felt like an essay on the subject, that it was no longer necessary for all of them to be in constant surveillance mode, but had succeeded in only marginally reducing their visits. _Surely you must have better things to do with your time. Work, for example._

"We've got the time Ezra, and no place better to be." Chris had assured him before changing the subject. Now, as Buck and JD spent a third straight afternoon here, Ezra began to wonder.

_How much of your vacation leave have you depleted over the past weeks? I would imagine most of it is gone._

Buck shook his head. "Don't you worry about that. We've got plenty of time."

_That didn't really answer the question._

"Buck's right Ez. We don't have to be anywhere else. Don't want to be either."

_Evasiveness is not in your nature Mr. Dunne._

"Oh-oh. He's gone formal on us. He's getting steamed." Ezra stared long enough that JD began to fidget. "Look, Ezra. I – we – promise you. This isn't a problem. Like Buck said, we've got nothing but time."

Ezra sat for a moment longer before averting his stare, leaving JD to foolishly assume the issue was done. He started nattering away about inconsequential matters, unaware of the fact that he had lost his audience. It wasn't until Ezra suddenly sat up straight and glared that he knew something was up.

_You're on suspension – aren't you? Both of you._

"Now that is one hell of a conclusion to jump to Hoss. Where did that come from?"

Ezra didn't answer, pointing instead to JD's knapsack, knowing the ever-present laptop would be in there. This discussion was going require typing. Reluctantly, knowing an argument was futile, JD set things up.

_You, both of you, violated rules, probably dozens of them, in your efforts to find me. Am I correct?_

"We violate rules on a daily basis Ezra. You know that."

_Violated them to a sufficient degree to warrant substantial retribution._

"This is nothing to get worked up about. So there was a little slap on the wrist. Hardly worth mentioning, which is why we didn't. Let it go Ez. It's not important."

_I beg to differ Buck. It is very important to me. I can already draw logical conclusions as to JD's offense. It is safe to assume there were objections to the liberties he took in perusing the computer files of assorted organizations and individuals without benefit of the required bureaucratic red tape. Do you care to share the nature of your offence?_

"Not especially. Details don't really matter."

_No, I suppose in the grand scheme, they are insignificant. _He resolved to find another way to get the information he needed. Surely there was someone he could call – or rather email – to determine the details. _Have all of our number met a similar fate?_

Buck didn't want to lie to Ezra. Aside from the fact it felt wrong, he knew there would be hell to pay when the deception was discovered. "I think it might be best if they told you that themselves. Not right for me to speak for them."

_A simple yes or no would have sufficed. Obviously, there is a good deal more to the situation than even I suspected. I imagine JD has texted them by now, as he has failed miserably in his effort to look inconspicuous. That they are all available to come visit whenever the mood strikes or the need arises really tells me all that I need to know on the matter. _

JD looked up from his phone. "Sorry Ezra. Yeah, Chris is going to come by. He wanted to be the one to talk to you about this stuff. We weren't trying to keep secrets or anything – we just didn't want to tell you anything."

_You realize that is the very definition of keeping a secret? I take it our leader is on his way?_

JD nodded. _Fine. I shall wait, but not for long. _He closed the laptop, resting his hand on top to discourage JD from trying to reclaim it. He was undeniably certain that it was going to be needing it again.

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

_**tbc**_


	17. Chapter 17

_I believe there is some information you have been withholding from me._

"Do you want to wait for the others?" Chris didn't see any point in holding off for the rest of the team, but was more than willing to forestall this particular discussion for as long as was possible. Personally, he'd been hoping for several more weeks, even though he knew that was unrealistic at best.

_I have no doubt you can provide the answers I am seeking, although I suspect they are not ones I want to hear._

It was amazing how fast he could type one handed, although pointing that out was not going to aid in the discussion. "Well, if I don't want to say anything, and you don't want to hear, why don't we just forget about the whole matter?" The glare he got back definitely fell into the category of 'a taste of his own medicine'. "Ezra, you need to know we weren't trying to keep thing from you. Just didn't feel the need to overwhelm you is all."

_Yes, JD attempted to ascribe a similar motivation to the deception, immediately prior to creating an excuse to remove himself from the line of fire. _He stopped typing when he heard the buzz of conversation outside his door. _Shall we invite the others to join us?_

Walking slowly, Chris made his way over, reaching for the door just as Josiah opened it and walked in, followed by an uncommonly subdued group. No one spoke as they took up positions around the bed, all feeling Ezra's gaze on them.

_You all bear a striking resemblance to recalcitrant school boys who have been caught in far too close proximity to the girl's gymnasium. Surely your offenses cannot be so heinous. _

"Hope you feel that way in a few minutes Pard."

With a look that spoke volumes more than any words, even with his vocabulary, Ezra put down the notebook and turned the laptop to face Chris. Clearly he'd been planning this out in anticipation of their arrival.

_Mr. Dunne has in effect admitted his crime by failing to deny the accusation, and becoming unnaturally quiet when I raised the issue. He has been caught with his hand in the electronic cookie jar once too often, and however noble he may have believed the cause, it was determined he overstepped in a way that cannot be ignored. I would suspect that could, and likely did, include a breach of homeland security? No matter, he is being punished with a suspension. My reckoning would place it at 4 to 6 weeks?_

_Now, moving up the scale, I do not consider it to much of a leap of logic to presume Mr. Wilmington and possibly Mr. Tanner resorted to force over patience when confronting some of the individuals they believed might provide some form of information on my fate. Again, believing that in this particular case the end would justify the means. A sentiment which may, on occasion, have merit. I would disagree this was such an occasion and can conclude that those in position of authority took the same stance. Without knowing the nature of acts committed, it is difficult to ascertain what periods of suspension they are dealing with, but being a gambling man, I would bet it is comparable to, or marginally greater than, the punishment meted out to our young associate. _

_In the minds of the bureaucrats who rule over us all, the offense Mr. Larabee would be guilty of is probably the most abhorrent of all – failure to lead his men with the iron fist and narrow mind they deem essential. As the overseer of our band of rogues, he would be held to their standard. I expect two or even as high as three months would be their concept of justice. _

_Sadly, there is no challenge in determining why Mr. Jackson has the time available to be a visitor to my side, although I believe his time is better spent focusing on his physical therapy than concerning himself with my solitary confinement. The sooner he can be declared fit for duty, the more content you all shall be._

_That leaves me only with the conundrum of Mr. Sanchez. While I believe his concern was beyond question as severe and strident as was that which you all demonstrated, I find myself unable to satisfactorily postulate on his action. While capable of the behaviour I have credited to Misters Wilmington and Tanner, I do know that on the rare occasions he has lost his temper to that degree, he has been all but impossible to rein in. And had events risen to that extreme, he would not be able to be here with us know, as the offense would have accelerated to a clearly criminal prosecution. Therefore, I can only assume he has made the error of voicing, in no uncertain terms, his opinions on the punishments applied and has been deemed insubordinate, adding him to the roster of those on leave without pay. All in the effort to come to my aid. And while I can assure you the actions are deeply appreciated, I do regret my role in your fates._

The opus had been read out for all to hear, and no one interrupted. When it was done, Ezra leaned back into his pillows, watching and waiting for a response.

They looked back and forth, each hoping someone else would start the conversation. No one was quite certain how to do that. Finally, Chris shrugged and began.

"You know, you can be a bit scary sometimes Ez. One of these days you'll need to explain how you know things when you weren't around to see them happen. Although I guess you've been part of this group long enough to have a decent understanding of us."

Ezra picked up his pen. _You are stalling – abysmally._

"Right. Yes, there were suspensions, and for pretty much what you described. At least for me and JD. Vin and Josiah weren't included in the mix, and Buck… well, I'm gonna leave the details on that to another time."

Not surprisingly, Ezra immediately switched his focus, eyes glued to Buck demanding answers.

"No. I did not beat up on anybody, though there was a temptation." There was really no point in putting this off. Might as well let Ezra be angry for everything at the same time. "What I did do was be the one to kill Taylor."

That was not the answer he'd expected. Not even close. _And he was to be taken alive?_

"Hope was he would lead us to you."

_He never would have done so, I assure you._

"That's what I figured. Plus, he told us you were already dead, and at the time, it seemed credible. I'm sorry about it, but that's what happened."

"The part he's leaving out was that the bastard had me by the neck and would have killed me, and maybe Vin as well. Buck had no choice Ezra, and it ate at him that he had to do it. Don't let him try to tell you otherwise."

_I understand both the need and the motivation. What I do not understand, all factors provided, is why there was retribution for simply and effectively doing your job._

"Well, I was a bit pissed off at him. He died too easy, deserved a lot worse. So, I shot him again. A few times. Seems like that was – what did they call it Chris? – an inappropriate and unstable show of force. I got a three-month vacation out of it all."

Ezra shook his head in shock and disbelief. _It was a foolish action. Reckless, irresponsible and far and away one of the stupidest actions ever taken on my behalf. I am both honoured and exasperated __by your sacrifice – and you shouldn't have done it. The cost was too great._

"Not the way I see it."

Realizing there would be no further discussion, Chris self-consciously cleared his throat and resumed his summary. "So, there was a bit more to the reprimands than you concluded. JD got 6 months."

Ezra's mouth opened, but before he could think of uttering a word, 6 voices rang out "No!" in unison. "Don't you dare!" Nathan added.

Frustration evident, Ezra grabbed pen and scribble three letters with such force the paper tore. _WTF!_

"I broke a mess of laws. I'm just grateful Judge Travis kept them from pressing any charges, and that Mrs. Travis helped me find -"

"Quiet JD – you're getting ahead of the story here." Vin cautioned him firmly. Ezra was mad enough without hearing about the new job, and the reason for it, quite yet.

_And your punishment? _He turned his attention back to Chris.

There was no point in holding back. "Three months. And a demotion from team leader." After pausing long enough to make sure this wasn't killing Ezra, Chris plowed ahead. "And the team was disbanded."

That was the straw. Ezra sat back, taking slow deep breaths, desperate to keep himself from speaking his mind. It would serve only to cause pain and seriously anger the others. He counted to 10 trying to calm down. Then he did it again – several times. He figured he was well past 100 by the time he opened his eyes to find all attention on him. He shook his head, trying to indicate they needed be worried, but it didn't go over.

"Don't try to pretend you aren't mad about all of this Ezra. God knows we were."

_So, Vin and Josiah are reassigned? Is there a delay in processing that which enables them to be here now?_

"I wasn't about to try to break in a new team at this point in my career, so I retired. Been thinking about it anyway, so the timing was good."

_Josiah, you know it is a sin to lie, especially when you do it so poorly. And you Vin?_

There was a small shrug, giving Ezra the only answer he needed. He looked around at the quiet group, no one meeting his gaze. It took him only a moment to piece the rest together. Despite the early admonishments he could not help him self.

"You didn't?" It was a weak, croaking feeble effort, and he was sorry he had even tried.

"Damn it Ezra – don't make things worse. Yes, I quit. I barely fit in there with someone like Chris for a boss. How long do you think I'd have lasted under some by-the-book jerk?"

_But all of you did the same – didn't you?_

Buck spoke first. "To quote Josiah, it was kind of a solidarity thing."

"Yeah, Three musketeers time." JD agreed. "All for one and so on."

_Nathan?_

"You and I still work there. It was pointed out to me that as long as our treatments for this crap are being insured, we'd be idiots to step away."

_Being idiots did not stop them!_

"Ezra, listen to me. I mean really listen." Ezra reluctantly turned his attention to Chris. "This isn't about you, so don't take it on." He took the pen away before it could be used. "You're just listening now. This is about respect. For us, for what we do, for who we are. They didn't understand that. Treating us like that, ignoring our record and all we've done. That was about as disrespectful as it gets. Truth is the people who run the show don't understand what the job is about, and this proved that. We had no choice. Men like us, we can't work that way. It's just that simple."

He didn't look convinced, so Josiah took over. "We've landed our feet, so to speak. JD there, he's got a job at the college, teaching a new generation of computer hackers." He grinned, but Ezra didn't. "Buck and Vin are helping Chris at the ranch. He's set up the stables for boarding animals, and looking into breeding and such."

"Breeding the horses that is, not Buck and Vin." When JD's effort fell flat, Josiah continued.

"Now I've been getting the chance to do some volunteer work at the youth community centre. I thought you all had been a challenge to handle, but some of these kids are even more stubborn than Chris, if you can imagine that."

"We are going to be fine Ezra." Vin knew where his thoughts were going to head. "Josiah has his pension, and Nathan will get some of a disability pension if he decides to step away. Judge Travis pulled strings and called in favours. May have even blackmailed a few people for all I know, but we all got our severance deals and the like."

"What?" Buck and Chris both looked at him in shock.

"Yeah – I just found out this morning when I went in to sign the last of the paperwork. You'll probably get called back in tomorrow." He looked back at Ezra. "We can handle this. You don't need to be wasting your energy worrying about us."

Ezra held out his hand to get the pen back from Chris. _Yes, why should I worry about the men who lost everything in the futile effort to get their comrade back. A man who is now unfit for any kind of duty, and in no position to even contemplate how to repay their sacrifice._

"Damn it Ezra, weren't you listening?"

_My miscalculations started this melodrama and you all paid the price,_

"You paid a steep price too, but we can deal with all of that."

"And," JD added to Buck's comment, "we are not going to dignify that crap about unfit for any duty. I've never seen you give up hope on the longest odds, and you aren't allowed to start now."

_These are not long odds, JD, they are impossible ones. And I am simply to tired to fight any longer. _He set the pen down on the table and shifted lower into the bed, hoping they would accept his signal.

"This isn't over Ezra." Chris warned him. "There is a lot more to talk through here, but I get you need some time to think on all of this. If you want us to leave, we will, but only if you look me in the eye and give me your word that you'll remember what I said to you about respect and blame."

Denying the request would have been a waste of time, Ezra looked up slowly, meeting the stare and nodding solemnly. He would consider the comments, but in his heart, he knew he had already made his decision. He could see only one solution to all of this, and it was one that the others would probably never accept or forgive.

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

_**tbc**_


	18. Chapter 18

They had agreed to give him 24 hours. In many ways, it was the longest day they'd had to deal with since this started. 24 hours with no visiting, no texting, no contact of any kind. Time to process everything was what Ezra said he needed, and they had finally said yes. Now Buck sat with his foot tapping impatiently as he stared at his wrist, watching the minute hand slowly click forward once again.

"That's it. Time's up." He pushed back the cafeteria chair, almost knocking it over in his haste. Chris was slower to stand.

"Don't expect him to be happy to see us. He's likely to have more questions."

"Questions hell," Vin challenged as they headed to the elevator. "I'm betting he's got an essay typed out on that damned tablet of his. JD never should have given it to him."

When they stepped off three floors up they bypassed the nurses station and went straight to the room, Buck bursting in. He froze in the doorway, blocking the other two. Josiah sat in the guest chair, staring at the empty bed. It was stripped down, and all evidence Ezra had ever been there had been removed.

"He's gone."

Pushing Buck ahead, the others entered.

"What do you mean – gone?" Chris's stomach lurched. Ezra had been doing well. They were talking about the next stage in his recovery. What the hell did he mean, gone?

Josiah was quick to pick up on the tone. "No, sorry. Not like that. He's left the hospital."

"Damn it Josiah!"

"Leave it Buck. What do you mean Josiah?"

Without speaking, he passed a still unopened note to Chris. "He had the nurse print it out for us. She told me he had checked himself out of here when she handed it to me just before I came in."

Chris unfolded the paper and began reading_. "My friends."_ That was as far as he got before the door opened again letting JD and Nathan join them.

"What the -?"

Waving at them to sit and wait, Chris started over. "_My friends. A__nd please believe I am deeply honoured to call you friends, despite what you may feel about me by the time you read the end of this missive. _

_It was my intention to 'discuss' this development with you all before initiating advancing my plans, but in light of the revelations regarding the ATF fiasco, the specifics became more difficult for me to lay before you. After all you have sacrificed, I know my current action is beyond self-serving. Nevertheless, fate has once again intervened and made the decisions for me._

_I have been advised that the surgery for my throat can be completed in New York two weeks hence. Travelling now will ensure I am well enough rested to significantly lessen any risks in the process, which obviously is the optimum situation._

_There is no question in my mind that you would be queued for the opportunity to accompany me, and although the noble sentiment is appreciated, the practicality of such an undertaking is at best questionable, and at worst, foolhardy. Now I know with greater surety that is true. You all need to use your time far more advantageously, moving forward, finding suitable employment and in the broadest of all terms, resuming your lives._

_Contrary to what you would all prefer, I regret to say that I do not intend to return to Denver immediately after the procedure. The therapy would be best completed at the same facility. Additionally, there are more opportunities there for additional, and hopefully new and innovative measures regarding the other injury. Failing that, they will no doubt have more advanced prosthetic options should that be, as I expect, the required route. Regardless, that is a discussion for a future date. _

_Although there is no reason for you to do so, I dearly hope that you will at some point be able to forgive my selfish motivations for taking this route, and for my intention to remain distant during the process. I know in my heart it is to your benefit as well, but experience tells me you are unlikely to believe that." _

"Selfish? He's walking away when he needs us most so that we can get on with our lives and he thinks we're gonna find that selfish?" None of them had a decent answer to JD's comment, mostly because there wasn't one.

Chris looked back down at the letter, reading ahead to himself. When he cursed softly a moment later, Josiah took the sheet of paper.

_"If you have found t__his to be unsettling, and possibly exasperating to you, the next comments will most assuredly infuriate you. I misspoke when I indicated my intention to delay my returning temporarily. The error should simply be edited out, but if I stop composing this, I may not be able to continue. The truth is, at this juncture, I cannot say with any certainty if I will be returning at all._" Josiah plowed ahead, ignoring the curses and comments from the others.

Despite the circumstances, he couldn't help but smile as he scanned ahead, hearing Ezra's voice clearly as he read the next words.

_"__Lest any of you come to what you would view as the inescapable conclusion I have shredded what remained of my sanity, let me takes pains to reassure you that the truth is found in the opposite direction. I believe I am, at long last, beginning to find it again. Indulge me in my effort to present proof by elucidating on what I perceive your responses have been to date._

_At least one of you, in all likelihood JD, has questioned the use of my word selfish. It is a fact on which we will have to agree to disagree. Chris, who would have taken on the responsibility of reading this to you, has undoubtedly become too angry to continue, and I can only assume that onus of the task has been taken over by either Josiah or Buck. Smart money would be on the former, as it is difficult to envision Buck demonstrating a superior ability to control his temper._

_Vin is undoubtedly sitting quietly to the side as he plots to develop a valid excuse for coming to see me. He will eventually decide to honour my wishes._

_And then there is Nathan. He is fretting unnecessarily that the words he said out of concern and compassion have somehow led to this pronouncement. He is wrong. Not completely, but significantly. His words in fact gave me the courage to reach this conclusion. To take the risk of moving forward. Do not interpret that in anyway to imply that he is to blame for my departure. That was my decision, but I shall always be grateful to him for giving me the tools I needed to come to this point._

_Now, to return to the matter at hand - so to speak. Ah, there are times when language can be ironically cruel. _

_Leaving Denver, leaving all of you, is not a decision I have made lightly. As you may well imagine, I have spent most of my waking hours playing out scenarios in my mind on what the future will bring. Most of those had decidedly unpleasant outcomes, with none terminating in a manner I find encouraging. _

_My concerns do not lie in the directions I suspect you presume. It is not the possibility I will not speak again. I have been repeatedly assured that will not be the case, which is gratifying for an individual so fond of proper use of the English language. Whether I will still enjoy the sound of my own voice remains a question only the fullness of time can answer, but I do know the opportunity awaits. And as difficult as you will find it to grant credence to the notion, it is not the belief that my hand may be nothing more than a useless extremity for the rest of my days, although I acknowledge that concept is layers beyond appalling to me. _

_What I am most concerned about is becoming a burden. Not just to you, a perception you are all challenging instinctively, but in a very real manner, to my own recovery. If I allow you to care for me throughout this process, as I would dearly love to be able to do, I know will never succeed in moving beyond it. I have no assurance that I can do that regardless of my efforts, but I am certain of the fact that, despite your intentions, the solicitudes will be more hinderance than help. Assuming I can find any worth left, I must be able to prove it to myself before I can hope to convince the rest of the world that it exists. Possibly a futile goal, but it is all I have to hang on to at the moment. _

_This decision is not spontaneous, nor has it been an easy conclusion to reach. I have reviewed the benefits and detriments of the action with great care and can only promise you that this is the optimum determination. I sincerely regret the distress this will cause you and will do whatever is reasonably within my power to minimize that pain. So, I make the following vows:_

_I shall remain in contact, by email or more traditional written communication with you throughout my absence. I cannot guarantee the frequency but will endeavour to not force you to suffer through prolonged silences; _

_I shall keep you informed of the progress of any significant procedures that are being done. I cannot promise to tell you in advance, as I fear that might compel you to violate the conditions I seek to impose in return for my promises, but I will provide updates; _

_In the event something of a more earthshattering nature develops, you will be kept up to date. I will further ensure that my health care providers have the information needed to contact you if circumstances demand."_

Josiah paused for a moment, reaching for the next sheet. Buck took advantage of the break.

"So, we're supposed to just sit back and accept all of this?"

"We are if we respect his rights." Vin answered softly, wishing he could say otherwise.

Josiah continued. "_In return, I ask only that you trust my promises, and honour my requests. I am not foolish or gullible or naïve enough to think for a moment you will not have already devised plans to track my progress and my whereabouts, so I would be wasting time and energy to try to hide those details. When I have an address and other contact details, I shall provide them to you. My heartfelt desire is that, barring emergencies of epic proportion, you do not use that information. _

_My final promise is that a day will not pass which is not favoured by fond memories of our time together. With luck, these memories will be the ones to eventually fill both my conscious and subconscious mind, driving away more recent sublimations. I know that the strength I will continue to draw from those times will assist me in whatever there is to come._

_Yours with deepest heartfelt affections, Ezra. _

"No. I'm sorry, but I can't do that. I can't just sit here, knowing what he is going to be going through and pretend like nothing is wrong."

"None of us can JD. But we have to." Nathan hated the idea that he had encouraged Ezra in any way toward this, but knew it was the only outcome. They should have all seen that coming. "He needs to do this for him."

"Not alone." Buck was with the kid on this. "He's not ready for that."

"He won't be alone. The doctor's out there will know what's been going on. He'll have counsellors and shrinks and whatever else he needs."

"He needs us Josiah. Not strangers, us." JD was pacing now, trying to figure out how to fix this.

Chris finally was able to speak. "Well, I don't care. I'm done with him. Seriously. Spends every waking minute since he joined this team pushing my buttons, breaking every rule we had and just plain being a pain in the ass. And now he pulls crap like this and just disappears. To hell with him. Who needs this?"

He looked up, half-expecting to see guns drawn. Instead, they were all just smiling. "You keep saying that Cowboy." Buck advised. "Two, maybe three million times and maybe eventually some idiot will believe a word of it. None of us, and certainly not you, but there will be some idiot out there, somewhere."

He turned away. "Yeah, well."

"Good answer." Vin looked back to JD. "You were right. He needs us. But not the way you're saying. He needs us to trust him. To believe in him. Without that, he won't be able to believe in himself. He'll do what he said – stay in touch, and we'll have to make our judgements from that."

"But what if he decides not to come back? Ever?"

"I don't think that will happen JD. I really don't. But if he does, if that is what he needs to move on from this, then who are we to interfere?"

"We're his family, that's who. And family doesn't turn away."

Chris shook his head sadly. "They do if they have to. At least, for now."

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

_**tbc**_


	19. Chapter 19

**ABOUT NINE MONTHS LATER**

Chris hadn't been waiting too long before he saw his lunch companion appear. Judge Travis arrived Inez's Tavern right on time, which was to be expected. He glanced around for a moment then made his way over to the table.

"I have to say Judge, retirement seems to agree with you. You look considerably more relaxed than I'm used to seeing."

"You're used to seeing me ready to chew you or one of the boys out. And seeing as how I'm not your boss anymore Chris, would you please start calling me Oren?"

"I'm not sure I can. I suppose I'll have to try."

Travis laughed. "I suppose part of the reason I'm relaxed just because I'm not having to deal with all the trouble you guys used to cause me. Kind of miss it to be honest."

"Told you you'd be bored without us around. How have you been Judge? Sorry, Oren."

The waitress arrived at the table before he had a chance to answer. "Nice to see you again Judge. What can I get for you? The usual?"

"It's been a while since I've lunched here; you can't tell me you remember it?"

She smiled. "Coffee, two sugars. Roast beef sandwich with extra horseradish. Fries on the side - extra crispy."

"I don't know whether to be impressed or terrified by that. I do know you should probably apply to the ATF and get yourself a job. You got better observational skills than half the agents that are there."

Her smile broadened. "No thanks. I've met most of the people that work there. I'll stick with waitressing. What about you Chris, can I top up your coffee?"

"Sure. And you can bring me the same as you're bringing him –"

"Except without the horseradish." she finished for him.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a couple of moments. It was only after she brought the coffee pot and sugar bowl over and filled the cups that the two men resumed their conversation.

"To go back to your question, things are pretty good. Done a bit of traveling, actually started working on my memoirs - though I don't know why. It was Evie's idea."

"That should make for an interesting read. Although I imagine most of the really interesting parts you won't be able to put into the book."

Travis smiled to mark his agreement with the comment. "The parts with you seven are the most interesting, and you're right. Most of them are just too incredible for anybody to ever believe. Readers would be more likely to believe I was a spy in a previous life. So how are things going out at the ranch? You still have Buck and Vin acting as your ranch hands?"

"Things are pretty good. Yeah, they're still there. I'm not sure I could actually say they're working for me, since they rarely do anything that I tell them to."

That brought a loud laugh. "Now you know how I felt. From what Evie has passed along, JD's teaching is still going well."

"Seems to be. He claims to like being at the college, and he seems to be staying out of trouble which is unusual. Maybe not having Buck around as much is a good thing for him, at least on that level. And since it's probably next on the list, I can tell you Nathan's also doing well."

"I've heard. Gone back to school too, but as a student. Proud of him for that."

Chris nodded as he sipped his coffee before answering. They were all proud of how Nathan had taken his nightmare experience and turned it around."With everything he's been through, only Nathan would find a way to make it into something positive. He's taking physio training. He's going to do therapy work with victims of violent crime. That's where he wants to specialize. I guess he figures he's got a bit of an inside track on what they're going through."

"It will suit him. Familiar territory."

"Rain is pretty happy about it. Happy enough that she accepted his proposal, finally."

"About damned time. He's the type who would do best settling down." He cleared his throat uncomfortably and looked down at his plate. "Speaking of which Chris, I don't know if you've heard about Mary?"

"Given the fact that Billy comes out fairly often to do some riding, I'm pretty sure I'm up to date on everything."

Travis shook his head. "Not sure how I feel about this new man of hers. He seems decent enough, but he's not the fellow I expected to have raising my grandson."

"Don't start Oren. Mary and I just weren't meant to be. It's best for both of us this way is, and I'm glad she's found somebody who can make her happy. Billy does like him, and I think the boy is a pretty good judge of character – don't you?"

"I suppose."

There were a few moments of silence as they finished their meal. "Nathan will be working with Josiah more than likely. He's been doing volunteer work in the same field, victims of crime. Also spends a fair bit of time at the youth center. Says it keeps him from getting old."

Travis folded his napkin, tossing it onto the plate. "Well that just leaves one. You still hearing from him?"

Chris fiddled for a moment with what was left of the food on his plate. He knew the subject was coming, but he wasn't thrilled with discussing the missing man. It was like picking at a scab. "Not near as much as we'd like."

"When was the last time you heard from him?"

"Directly or indirectly? We get cards from him on the appropriate occasions. Birthdays, Christmas and the like. And every so often one of us gets an email with an update. He seems to be doing okay. He doesn't really share too much about what's going on which makes me worried about how the recovery really is."

"Ezra's always been private about himself. Something like this isn't going to improve that issue. I admit I'm surprised that none of you has headed up to New York to check up on him."

"It's been a hard temptation to fight. Just knowing how pissed off Ezra would be is enough to keep us away. Barely. We have discussed the idea of throwing caution to the wind and heading out there next month."

"Let me guess. That would be the anniversary?"

"It'll be a year since he went missing. Not sure that that's a date he should spend on his own. Or that we should. It feels like we need to reconnect - to remind us he really did come back, even if just temporarily."

Chris reached for his wallet as he waved the waitress over. He wasn't surprised to see Inez take her place.

"No charge today gentlemen. Lunch is on the house."

"Not the best way to do business young lady." Travis smiled at her.

"Well then, why don't we consider it payment for your legal advice, since you refuse to send me a bill."

Chris looked up with concern. "You having some kind of problem?" He knew he should have done a better job of staying in contact. Since his focus had shifted to running the ranch, he didn't get into town as often as he used to. It had been far too long since any of them had come by the saloon.

"Not any longer. Business had dropped off a bit with that new healthy place around the corner, but things are coming back. And now that I have a new partner, there will be more money coming in."

"New partner?"

"That's why I called the judge. He checked out the investor and the contract for me. It seemed to good to be true, but he assures me it wasn't."

Travis joined in, seeing Chris's obvious concern. "Don't worry. Contract is a dream deal. A silent partner interested in making money while keeping the operation as close to it's current set-up as possible. It's a numbered company, but my investigation didn't raise any flags."

Inez smiled broadly. "So I am - what was it JD used to say? – a happy camper. I do hope it won't be so long before you come back again. With the others. But don't tell Buck I was asking. I'll never hear the end of it." She gave Chris a quick peck on the cheek before heading back behind the bar.

"When did all of this happen?"

"Just within the last 6 weeks or so. What's wrong Chris."

"Don't suppose you remember off hand the number of this company?"

"I can find it. But there's nothing to worry about – it's on the up and up."

"Maybe. But about a month ago I had someone make an offer on that patch of land we severed for the bank loan. Would pay off the debt with plenty to spare. It was a numbered company."

Travis frowned. "Coincidence?"

"Don't believe in them. I turned it down, and other than one phone call from a lawyer to confirm, that was the end of it. Didn't really think much about it. Someone bought the Paxton farm next to it, so I figured they just wanted to expand. But is was a more than generous offer."

"And you have suspicions now."

"Let's just say I'm curious. If you can get me the number?"

"Will call you in the next couple of days. Or, you could come by the house. Evie would love to see you. All of you."

"All of us don't do as much together anymore, but maybe we can work something out."

Travis understood. He had one last piece of advice. "Look, if you guys do head up to see Ezra, be sure to give him my best. But, if you want my opinion, you'll stay away. He knows where you all are, and that you're worried about him. You try to push him into coming home before he's ready, and he might just bolt. For all of his bravado, he's really just a skittish colt."

"I know, but I though we had him saddle broke. Hate to see all that work go down the drain."

Travis shook his head. "It wasn't a waste. You really think he would have survived this if he hadn't known you were there for him. Just give him the time to accept that. Sooner or later, he is bound to come around."

"He can be damned stubborn."

"I'm familiar with the type."

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

**_tbc_**


	20. Chapter 20

Late afternoon the next day, Chris stood up from the desk in his small corner office and made his way to the kitchen. Paperwork always irritated him, and the feeling was only amplified when it was financial work that didn't bode well for his future. He couldn't help but think once again how much everything had changed in the past year.

The decision to return to ranching had been both the best and worst thing he could have done. It was, in theory, a great plan. He'd always wanted to be a rancher; that was where his heart was, why he had bought the ranch in the first place. Losing Sarah and Adam had killed that dream as well as so many others. But time and circumstance do in fact heal wounds, and now that he had more time on his hands than he knew what to do with, the idea of making it a fully working ranch once again seemed obvious. His expansion to allow for boarding worked, to a degree. He had both short- and long-term customers, but the income barely covered the costs and loan repayment. Leasing out grazing land helped, but he had a long way to go to make this a profitable venture.

Things had reached the point he was almost regretting never returning the phone calls that he was sure had been job offers. Messages were deleted quickly when he heard FBI, Denver police or any other official sounding organization leaving word that someone from their personnel office would like to drop by. None of the others had mentioned getting similar calls, although it wouldn't surprise him. But he couldn't see himself ever saying yes. He still had a lot of anger and frustration over what had happened - too much to ignore. The others may have been able to put it behind them, but Chris's level of resentment was too high for him to see himself carrying a badge again. They had been a good - no - a great team. But that hadn't been enough. Even without that issue, there was a bigger problem. Going back to law enforcement wouldn't be the right move unless they were going back together. All seven of them. And there was simply no circumstance where he could see that happening.

What he had now may not be perfect, but it was a decent imitation. It was good to have Buck and Vin working with him, when they weren't driving him just a little crazy. He still couldn't really pay them at this point, but both insisted room and board was all they needed. The money from the ATF payout was enough to ensure funds for life's little pleasures.

It didn't take a genius to figure out Buck had ulterior motives. Chris knew his long-time friend was worried. He'd seen Chris spiral into depression once before, and while the circumstances now were radically different there was enough common ground for concern. The difference this time was that Chris didn't blame himself. Well, not completely. Granted, things had fallen apart. But everyone had survived the ordeal.

Vin had gone ahead and fixed up the old abandoned shack, making it if not cozy, at least livable. He'd gone back to preferring to spend his time alone more often than not. The younger man didn't handle frustration terribly well, and that was one emotion he was dealing with on a daily basis. Chris was fairly certain he had yet to fully forgive himself for not finding Ezra faster. Not that such a task was possible. He'd gone over it himself a million times in his mind. There was nothing anyone could've done to speed that ordeal along. The reality of that statement didn't make it easier to accept the fact.

Josiah actually seemed to be adjusting to all of the changes better than any of them. He too had a simple lifestyle that was more than adequately covered by his pension. He spent most of his days at the church youth centre, offering counselling, advice, or just a friendly ear. And with the newer addition of working with victims of violence he was comparatively happy, and definitely in his element. Helping others always helped him in equal amount. And now, more than ever, he felt the need to be useful.

Landing a position at the community college that was a cross between helping with IT and teaching the subject kept JD busy, if not fully content. He put on a good face anytime they were together, but both Chris and Buck had noted the enthusiasm for – well, for everything, wasn't what it had been. The fact that living in the same house but not actually with Casey had put their relationship somewhat in limbo was another sign of how dejected he really was. And despite what he'd told Judge Travis, Chris wondered from time to time just how much trouble JD could get into in his new job. He had no doubt it was only a matter of time before the kid would find some way of stepping where he shouldn't. As much as Buck may have been just a much of a kid in many ways, he did seem to have a bit more impulse control - which wasn't really saying much. JD was just too inquisitive to leave well enough alone. For example, he was fairly certain the young man was keeping a very close eye on Ezra. He hadn't said anything, which was evidence enough of his activities. He would have been a lot more vocal with his concerns if he didn't have a degree of certainty that Ezra was doing alright.

Nathan's recovery was decidedly a high point in all of this. He was certainly doing a lot better physically. He was long since done with the surgeries, and while there was still some ongoing physiotherapy needed, it wasn't as often or as intense. No one who saw him now would have any idea just how badly he'd been hurt. They were all inordinately pleased with his area of study, knowing that he, like Josiah, was happiest when helping others. Chris knew that was critical, since he couldn't help but think Nathan still harboured some misguided feeling of guilt over what he believed his role had been in Ezra's imprisonment. And while both men claimed to have come to terms with what Taylor had done, the facts simply did not support that conclusion.

He looked out the window again, unconsciously scanning for company. It was funny that the day after lunch with Travis, JD would call and invite himself, Nathan and Josiah out for dinner. Chris suspected he knew what the main topic of conversation would be. It was no surprise that JD was continuously suggesting they head to New York. There was no arguing Buck owned the role of Big Brother, but Ezra had been a quieter kind of mentor to the young agent, and his absence was clearly deeply felt.

Whatever the reason, he was glad to get the call. Even though they still all got together from time to time, it was not as often as they used to; it didn't feel like it was often enough. it had been a while since all six of them had met up, but he had the feeling tonight was not going to be a social event, which was too bad. An afternoon of riding, some steaks on the barbecue, and an evening of drinking and telling lies sounded like a good idea. That was usually how the gatherings went, much as they had done before everything changed. The only thing different from those nights was poker. It'd been close to a year now since they sat around the table. Well, that wasn't entirely true. They tried a few games, but it just didn't feel right.

A lot of things didn't feel right anymore. Not the least of which was the fact that they really hadn't heard enough from Ezra to satisfy them, and what had said told them next to nothing. He assured them that he was doing well, and his recovery was "on schedule". They all wanted to believe that so much that they were willing to accept it. Honouring his wishes had been one of the hardest things the team had ever had to do. Travis's words only reinforced what they all knew. Going after him, tracking him down wouldn't accomplish anything. He'd just disappear, and next time probably wouldn't bother to stay in touch. That was a chance none of them had intended to take - up until now.

Maybe the time had come. This had gone on long enough in his mind, and he knew the others were coming to the same conclusion. Visiting didn't have to mean they were going to force him into anything he wasn't ready for, but it would reassure him that they hadn't forgotten about him. Of course, the regular calls made and emails they sent were doing the same thing, even if they weren't always answered. Ezra was just so damned hard to read. Give him too much room and he feels abandoned; too tight a grip and he feels pressured. The hope was that as a group, they'd be able to find the balance. And remind him that as much as he'd been through a hell of a lot, so had they. It was quickly approaching the point when it was time for them to all face it together.

Chris had been staring out for some time now, not exactly watching for his guests, but waiting just the same. He sipped slowly at what really should be his last coffee of the day. Sleep was elusive enough without overdosing on caffeine.

He looked down at the table with the 'priority' bills that were piled up. The utilities were covered, he'd made sure of that. But the extras were killing him. And the extras were essential if he was going to have a working ranch. Knowing he was going to regret it later, he reached for the coffee pot again.

"Thought you were going to limit yourself to 4 cups a day."

"Well let's just call this an early start on tomorrow's quota."

Buck walked over and took the cup. He ignored the glare. "You might as well grab a beer. Enough of those and you'll fall asleep regardless of how much coffee you've had." He walked over to the fridge and pulled out a couple of cold ones, setting both on the table. He spun the chair around and straddled it before opening his bottle.

"Everyone still coming out?" Chris tried to call Vin, but it seemed like the phone was off, so he just left a message. Odds were, he would see it. Whether or not he'd come was another matter, but Chris was confident. Loner or not, Vin still enjoyed the company of this group.

"Should be here any time now, since I haven't heard otherwise."

"OK, then I'll have my say before they get here."

Chris knew what was coming, and really wasn't in the mood. "Told you a dozen times; I'm not selling off any of the land."

"It was a good offer, it's out of sight of the house and you need the money."

"Need the land more. God knows what will end up being built there. Don't want a bunch of condos or worse."

Buck had expected that answer and didn't disagree. "What if you had a buyer you could trust?"

"Given the fact that I don't know anyone with that kind of money, and I doubt you do, I don't see that happening."

"I could get a mortgage."

Chris was glad he had swallowed his mouthful of beer. "**You** could. Really? Based on what? As much as you value your collection of little black books, I doubt anyone would take them as collateral."

"Because of our long-standing friendship, I will ignore the implied insult." Buck reached over to the counter and pulled the laptop to him. A few keystrokes later, he smirked, turning the machine toward Chris as the webpage opened. "I have managed to save a few dollars over the years."

This time Chris did choke on his beer, sputtering in shock. "Holy shit Buck – when did you rob a bank?"

"Well, it ain't all that much, but it should cover enough as down payment. I think."

"One million, thirteen thousand and change. Yeah, that should be enough."

Buck laughed. "Look again cowboy. There is this little dot there called a decimal point."

"Right. And in front of that are the 7 numbers that say one million, thirteen-".

Buck spun the laptop around, staring in disbelief. "Well somebody screwed that up nicely. Hey - do you think they'd object if I just transferred some of that out before they figure out who it really belongs too?" He looked up to see Chris wasn't laughing. "Uh, Chris – you know this isn't my money, right?"

"That could be hard to prove if someone is messing with you."

"If they are, he's not alone." They turned, surprised to see JD and the others coming in. Neither man had heard them pull up. "Check your account Chris. I'll bet you a million dollars you've had the same deposit."

It took only a few keystrokes to confirm the addition of funds. "You three as well?" All of them nodded.

"OK, what the hell is going on?" Buck stood, getting beers for the others. "It's a damned expensive frame up to try to bring down 6 guys who aren't even Feds anymore."

"I don't know. I don't really have the set up to trace back the funds without crossing the line."

Chris shook his head. "Don't do that. Least not yet. Easiest option would be to just check with the bank."

"Nobody with authority to look into anything was there when I called." Josiah answered. "Being a Saturday, that isn't really surprising."

Before Chris could voice his next suggestion, the backfiring of a truck interrupted. A moment later, Vin joined them. "Anybody else having troubles with their bank account?"

"Let me guess – you're a little more flush that you should be?"

Vin nodded his response to Buck and turned to speak, but Chris was already on the phone.

"Afternoon Judge. Sorry to interrupt your weekend, but we have a bit of a -. Oh, you too. Half a million. Well, ours is a bit more than that, but yeah, same issue." He was quiet for a moment, nodding or shaking his head from time to time. "No, we haven't got a clue. Could it be a frame of some kind? Any way you can figure that it ties into the other thing we were talking about?" The others waited impatiently for the conversation to end. "OK, we'll check what we can. Call us."

"What did he say?" JD was first to ask.

"He suggested we sit back for a relaxing dinner and prepare ourselves for some kind of shit to hit the fan. Because nobody hands over six and a half million dollars without one hell of an ulterior motive, and it isn't likely to be a good one."

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

_**tbc**_


	21. Chapter 21

The meal wasn't relaxing, but it was enough to keep them distracted for a bit. They sat out next to the barbeque, each mulling over the possibilities. The list of enemies they could come up with was impressive but deciding on one who would, for that matter one who could, go to this extreme was more of a challenge. From time to time someone would start to voice an explanation, usually cutting themselves off when they realized it made no sense.

"Gotta say Chris, it is damned tempting to transfer that outta there and into some off-shore account. Kid here should be able to set them up for us in no time."

"Didn't think you were that mercenary Buck."

"It's not that I really **need** a million dollars Josiah. Just seems that it would be rude to turn down such a generous gift."

Vin felt the same trepidation Chris did. "Would be nice if the giver had signed the card."

A slightly raspy but totally recognizable southern drawl came from the doorway. "My, my, my. I would have assumed you gentlemen would have come to the only logical conclusion by this point. I cannot comprehend that any additional notification would have been required."

They turned slowly, too much in shock to have any greater reaction yet. There was no other movement, as if they feared the group hallucination would evaporate as unexpectedly as it had appeared.

He looked good. Very good. The burgundy leather jacket was open to show a black shirt tucked into sharply creased slacks. The Italian loafers had a shine that you could see yourself in, and that seemed to dare any dust to settle. All in all, he looked almost exactly like he had the day he first showed up for work at the Denver ATF offices. With a few notable differences. He leaned, ever so slightly, on a highly polished ebony walking stick, complete with gold tip. It suited his appearance perfectly, yet at the same time was somehow out of place. His right hand was nestled in the jacket pocket, but from where Vin sat he could see Ezra was wearing a glove. One thing was definitely the same. The faintly tentative smile he'd offered that first day, the one that almost succeeded in hiding his fears, doubts and deep-rooted concerns, was back.

"It is reassuring to discover I have retained the ability to render you all speechless."

"Damn Ezra. You are a sight for sore eyes." Buck was the first to his feet, charging over to greet the long-lost member of their group. He slowed at the last instant, seeing the slight tensing of Ezra's body. He stopped short of gripping him in the bone-crushing grasp he had in mind, settling instead on a far more subdued pat on the back.

"Standish, you have not lost your gift for making an entrance."

"Truer words were never uttered Chris." Josiah was now on his feet, leading the others toward their friend.

Ezra's smile stayed firmly in place but didn't come anywhere close to making it all the way up to his eyes. He subtly took a half-step back, allowing his weigh to shift for fear of being literally bowled over by the enthusiasm. Seeing the action, Josiah shifted his position enough to slow the stampede.

"Well, come ahead out here and take a seat. There's still enough food here for some dinner."

"Thank you, Josiah but no. I have had my evening repast." Ezra salivated at the smell of the barbequed feast, but he doubted either his throat or his nerves were up to such a meal. He didn't know why being back in this familiar place was so disconcerting, but he couldn't recall feeling this ill at ease around these people in a very long time. He turned from the patio table and instead tilted his head toward the family room. "Perhaps we might take our places inside?"

"Absolutely." Buck led the way, heading straight for the bar and pulling out a few bottles. "Still have some of the good stuff here for you Ezra." He held the bottle of Kentucky bourbon. "You want this, or a scotch?"

"Either would be acceptable. On the rocks, please."

There was no substantial discussion as they fixed their drinks. Josiah and Nathan headed to the kitchen, returning laden with chips and snacks to carry them through what they hoped would be a long evening of catching up. They were all glancing over toward where Ezra had settled into his favorite chair, taking his place as if it had been just days, not months, since he'd been there. He finally chuckled softly.

"I assure you, I am real, and will not vanish in the proverbial puff of smoke should you shift your gaze away from me."

"Ya disappeared on us a few times too often, Pard. We just want to be sure."

Ezra tipped his head slightly in acknowledgement of the claim. "While I cannot control involuntary absences, I suppose I should reassure you that I have no expectations of leaving town again in the immediate future. At least, not for any extended period."

JD's smile broadened. "So you're back to stay! That's great Ez. Where are you going to be living?"

"That has not been finalized yet. There are no availabilities at my former condominium complex, not that I have a burning desire to re-establish that residency, but I have been reviewing other options. Until such time, I have made arrangements to rent a suite which will become available on Monday morning. I was hoping I could impose on your generosity until then Chris, but if the spare room is not available –"

"Course it's available. And you can cancel that suite set up too. You're staying here until you find someplace permanent." His look dared Ezra to challenge the offer.

"That might be a prolonged period, but we can discuss it further. I did not wish to presume."

"Ezra? You ready to explain to us the first thing you said when you got here?" When Vin didn't get an answer he continued. "Just what logical conclusion were we supposed to come to?"

They waited. Ezra took a small sip of his drink, postponing for a few more seconds the confrontation what was about to occur. "The funds are compensation for the moronically unjustified dismissal you all faced from the Agency."

"No, that's not it." Buck knew there was more to it than anything that simple. "There was no compensation beyond what Travis was able to finagle for us. Got us better severance than should have happened, under the circumstances, but nothing close to that range."

Ezra's face clouded over. "The circumstances were that none of you should have been let go."

"We weren't Ezra. Told you. We quit."

"Or retired." Josiah corrected JD.

"You left because of the treatment you were given over the actions you took in trying to rescue me. Those penalties were assessed in an effort to force your departure. To state otherwise would be a blatant falsehood, and every bit as ludicrous as the initial actions were."

"Nobody forced us to leave. It was our call." Chris had hoped he'd convinced Ezra of that at the time everything happened, but obviously that had been wishful thinking.

"Your call? You were punished, demoted and divided. It was an insane effort to try to bring supposedly renegade agents under control, and rather than fight it, you acceded to the plan."

"We had a more important fight to worry about."

"A gesture that was foolish and short-sighted."

Knowing this particular discussion could go on for most on the evening and resolve nothing, Vin decided to move them all past it. "None of this talk answers the question. Where'd the money come from?"

"I assure you, there was nothing illegal involved."

"Never thought for a moment that there was. Still doesn't answer the question though."

Ezra shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He knew they would ask, and that there was only so much he could tell them. "I am afraid I cannot fully satisfy your curiosity on the matter. I will say what is not precluded by legally binding settlements. First and foremost, I am not foolish or careless enough to submit paperwork containing such and egregious oversight as the misspelling of suspect's name, as you of all people should have recognized Chris. To imply that I would commit such a transgression is a slander on the fastidious nature of my character. That could not go without demanding appropriate recompense. To further assert by the actions taken that my life was not worth the creative interpretation of rules and regulations is equally offensive, and those who enforced such restrictions likewise deserved to be brought to task."

Chris couldn't help himself. He knew it was the wrong response, and totally inappropriate in this situation, but he simply couldn't help it. To the utter astonishment of the others, he barked out a loud laugh. Once he started, he found it difficult to contain any further reaction, but brought himself back under control.

"You sued the Denver police AND the ATF? Good God Ezra, I would hate to have your nerve in a tooth."

"I took what I deemed to be the appropriate response to the damage that was done to my person and to my restored reputation."

"You just gave away six and half million dollars." Nathan was flabbergasted.

Buck had another thought on the matter. "Ya got to tell us Ez - does Maude know you've given away that kind of cash?"

Ezra laughed lightly. "Good Lord - no. It would kill her. On the spot. Mother is not even aware that I have even recovered such a sum, and I see no reason to inform her of the change to my situation."

There was a tone there they all picked up on, but only Josiah followed through. "Has she been to see you - at all?"

Lying would have been so much easier, but fooling these men wasn't something he had any desire to do. "Yes, she came to New York about a month after I had my throat surgery. She was - displeased."

"Well of course she was." JD leapt in. "No mom wants to see her son in the hospital."

"No JD. Her anger was at me as much if not more than at the perpetrator of these actions. She actually should have been quite satisfied, as it served to prove her predictions that my career in law enforcement would end with me broken and bankrupt." He paused for just a moment, expecting comments, but the one he got from Nathan wasn't exactly what he was prepared for.

"Think you are long past the point we need to point out to you how wrong she is about broken, given the fight you shown. And bankrupt clearly isn't up for discussion.

"Now, but at the time both terms were decidedly relevant. Nevertheless, as I was determined not to allow her to take control of my life, I strongly requested that she either elect to support me or take her leave. I have kept her informed on my progress, but have only seen her once since then, and that was mere happenstance of being at the same location for a concert. We exchanged civilities, but nothing more."

"I'm sorry I brought her up Ezra."

"Don't be. I find it enormously satisfying to know that her predictions of my abject failure were wrong, even if she will never be aware of what she is missing out on."

"I know you mean the money when you say that Son, but I can't help feel she is missing out on something a lot more important."

The silence that followed threatened to drag on, so Nathan tried to steer them back to the original subject. "Look Ezra don't get me wrong. We all love you like a brother, but how the hell did you convince them to give you that kind of money?"

"I didn't. My lawyer did. I cannot provide further details as to do so would result in the sum being withdrawn, so I beseech you to allow the matter to rest there."

"Nope. Can't do that." Chris countered. "Ezra, you can't give all that away. Aside from the practical aspect of paying the lawyer and the taxes and all that crap, you were right. With everything you went through, you earned that. And you are going to need it in the future, so we can't –"

"You have become quite the practical businessman in my absence. I assume the operation of this establishment has contributed to that. Again, while I cannot go into details, I can say while the final agreed upon sum was considerably lower than the ludicrous amount I requested, which involved eight zeros, it was far more than I expected, significantly surpassing – ironically – the seven zero mark. Allow me to assure you that I have kept a tidy sum set aside for myself, well invested. And matters such as lawyers and taxes have been addressed, along with an inordinate amount of ludicrous minutia involved in such a claim. And, to further put your minds at ease, the sums you have received will not be subject to any such attachments either. Those deposits are all now free and clear and are at your disposal for whatever purpose you see fit."

They sat in stunned silence, absorbing the reality of their new situations.

"I can quit working at the college." The relief in JD's voice was evident.

"Thought you liked it?"

"Hell Buck, it was better than flipping burgers or something, 'cause I still got to work on programing and stuff, but I've never been so bored in my life."

They all recognized the feeling. To go from active agents to the comparatively sedate lives they now lived had been the biggest adjustment, and one they never discussed.

"Guess you won't have to sell off any of the land after all cowboy."

Chris wasn't proud of the fact he'd had the same thought, and that it had come to him the moment he heard about the money. His conscious kept telling him this was Ezra's money, not his. But the sheer relief of no more financial burden was too strong to deny.

"At least I don't have to worry about condominiums going up there, or worse."

"Condominiums were never part of the agenda. A modest home with suitable accoutrements such as a hot tub, guest lodgings and perhaps small stables was the most I had been considering."

Once again, Chris was left momentarily speechless, staring at Ezra in shock. "You?" he finally managed to choke out. "You were the mystery buyer – the numbered company? Damn it Ezra, why didn't you just ask? I'd'a sold it to you in a heartbeat."

"You were offered well over the value, and did not part with it, despite the obvious need. That showed me you had no true desire to do so and would have been selling to me out of obligation."

"No, out of friendship. Be more than pleased to have you as a neighbour."

"Good, as I am the owner of the Paxton property, and will eventually be making some plans for that location."

Buck grinned as another realization struck him. "So you own Inez's Saloon now? Free drinks nightly!" Chris had told him about the arrangement.

"Not own, merely an investor. And for the moment, one who would prefer to remain anonymous. I do not wish her to feel any sense of obligation to me."

"That how you feel about us too? Worried that we will feel obliged to do something? That the reason for the secrecy?" Josiah was worried that Ezra was still hiding something.

"It was not unconceivable to me that you would refuse this offer or refuse to be sensible about matters. Therefore, I had been examining other considerations." His intention was to offer his standard grin to punctuate the comment, but an unexpected yawn ruined the effect. "My apologies gentlemen. It seems the day has taken a bit more out of me than I expected."

Not surprisingly, Nathan was the first to react. "No, we should have figured that. Must have been some effort to even get out here, coming in from New York and all."

"If that is your subtle way of asking, yes, I did just arrive today. My suitcase is in the rental car out front."

"One of us can fetch that for you while Chris sets up the guest room. You just sit back and finish that drink." JD was already acting on Buck's suggestion, headed toward the door. The others followed suit, leaving Ezra a few minutes to relax on his own.

He leaned back into the chair, not bothering to hide the small wince of discomfort as he shifted his leg. It had been a long day, and he was stiff and sore in ways he hadn't felt for some time. None of that bothered him as much as he'd expected. It felt too good just being here. He hadn't admitted, even to himself, how much he missed his life in Denver. The familiarity of the city was solace to him from the moment he left the airport. This, however surprising the revelation, was home.

And here, at the ranch, was where he felt it most. There was something about this place that changed a man. Reached into him and settled the torments of memories and nightmares. He'd travelled a great deal in his life and had never found any other place that could have the same effect on him.

Even the anxious concerns about just how, or more accurately if, he would fit in with the team had faded as the evening progressed. The first part of his plan was falling into place. Now he only had to concern himself with the balance of the dream – or as he feared, the pipedream. He suspected that was going to be considerably more challenging, given what he had in mind.

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

_**tbc**_

Author's note: _I realize I might not have all of the legalities accurate for how settlements are handled in the US, but based on a contract I had to sign here (for a MUCH smaller amount, I assure you!) and based on our laws on such settlements, I have created the scenario I did. Hope it isn't too much of a stretch._


	22. Chapter 22

Twenty minutes later, Chris rested his shoulder against the doorframe, leaning casually as he gazed into the room. He turned his head when he heard approaching footsteps and signalled Josiah to silence.

"It looks right seeing him sitting in there."

"It is rather like having a piece of the puzzle finally put back into place." Josiah answered softly. "Kinda nice having the family together again."

They watched as Ezra dozed quietly in the corner. The rocking chair moved ever so slightly in time with his breathing. His highball glass, barely touched, still sat beside him on the table.

"All things considered he's looking pretty good."

Chris's smile faded slightly. "I suppose so, all things considered. He still has the limp."

Nathan had arrived in time to hear the comment. "So do I, especially when I'm tired."

"He's got the colour back though. Looks like he's got the weight back too."

"Not just the weight – the muscle. He seems to be in good shape."

Nathan nodded, recognizing the reason. "Physiotherapy will have that result, if you're doing it right. I'd guess Ezra handled that like he handles most things."

"Committed to proving he can do it better than anyone expects of him?" Josiah smiled, knowing just how stubborn Ezra could get when he had the chance to show off to anyone foolish enough to underestimate him.

"Exactly." The smile came back to Chris. "It definitely was always one of his more annoying tendencies."

"Seems to have served him well this time around." Vin joined in. The doorway was getting crowded, and Chris was thinking it might be a good idea to mover their conversation to a new location.

Vin kept talking. "He's anxious though. Still holding something back from us. Not as relaxed as he used to be."

As much as he would have liked to be able to disagree, Josiah had noticed the same concern. "It takes time to learn to adjust to some things. And some you never quite get past."

"He will. He's got that –"

"He is also awake, and able to hear perfectly well, gentlemen." Ezra opened one eye, quirking his eyebrow at the same time. The four men were silenced by equal parts of mortification at being caught out in their analysis and concern that they had offended Ezra. He maintained his Cycloptic stare at them for a moment before a broad smile spread over his face. "The variety of shades of red in combination with the nervous shuffling and almost palpable angst make for a captivating team image. It is reassuring to see I have not lost my ability to make you all so uncomfortable with such ease."

Vin was the first to snap out of his embarrassment. "Well Pard, you can't really blame us for watching. Sleeping under any conditions has always been one of your finest skills."

"And worrying excessively about your brethren has always been one to which each of you may lay claim. I assume the two wayward members of the entourage have not wandered far from the fold?"

"Buck and JD are checking the barns for the night." Almost on cue, the back door opened as the two entered.

"Yes. I would imagine that watching over your own horses, in addition to those you stable for others requires a great deal of vigilance. It is an impressive operation you have established."

Chris shrugged. "It's a good way to make an honest living."

"And one that does not require you to bow to the whims and folly of bureaucrats and other idiots."

Buck snorted. "You'd be surprised at just how many idiots we still have to deal with. Weekend cowboys." He stopped short of showing his feeling by spitting, remembering at the last moment that he wasn't in the barn now. "I guess that will all change if we decide to keep the money."

"Honest to God Buck! One simple request and you can't even do that. One of those horses kick you in the head or something?"

"Well, you were going to talk to him tomorrow anyway."

"Yes, after a good night's sleep." Chris gritted his teeth against further comment and turned to face Ezra, fully expecting the angry rant that would be aimed at him. The sly smile, on the other hand, was not what he had been expecting.

"Come gentlemen. I may have been away for a while, but I certainly spent enough time in your presence, and being exposed to your particular moral compasses to anticipate at least a modicum of reluctance concerning the acceptance of my offering. The fact that you have restrained from voicing your concerns for this long indicates only that you are at present more concerned with my recovery than with your own principles. Again, not a surprising circumstance to me."

"Ezra, it's just a lot to consider and –" Chris began, but was not allowed to continue.

"I will concede that you are correct in your decision to postpone such discussion. It has been a long day for me, with far more activity than I have been used to. And I can only assume than my unexpected arrival, coupled with other revelations, has left you all somewhat stupefied yourselves. So," he pushed himself to his feet, swaying slightly as he stood and trying not to let them see that, "I would suggest that we plan for a lengthy conversation on the matter tomorrow. As I indicated earlier, I do have related proposals to make."

"That sounds fine Ezra. I've got the guest room made up for you."

Nodding his thanks, Ezra made his way down the hall. He paused at the door to his room. "Please do not be concerned if you see the light on in my room during the night. I still find it somewhat difficult to adjust quickly to different surroundings for the first few nights."

"You do what you need to Ezra. That's fine by us." Vin answered for them all.

Ezra took a step forward, then turned again. "For what it is worth Chris, this evening, being out here, has been the first time in far too long a period that I have been able to feel relaxed - and safe."

"That may well be the nicest thing anyone has ever said about this place."

"While the ranch provides a warm and inviting environment, I do not believe that is the primary reason for my unfamiliar sanguine feelings."

He quietly closed the door behind him.

It was difficult to say exactly how the rest of evening could be described. They moved outside to try to keep the noise from being too disruptive as they quietly celebrated the cause for the impromptu party. Having Ezra back in the fold was certainly well worth any residual effects in the morning. But there was more than that; letting him sleep wasn't the only reason it was a more subdued gathering than it might have been.

Concern had stimulated some of the drinking. They couldn't help but wonder and worry about what other announcements their friend had in mind and it was only a matter of time before the speculation began. JD voiced the first, and most outlandish theory: Ezra had fallen in love while in New York and would soon be introducing them to his bride. "Just because you're a committed bachelor Buck, doesn't mean the entire world is going to follow your lead."

"The term is confirmed bachelor kid."

"Well, in your case, it's committed – 'cause you should be."

"I'm not the one crazy enough to think Ezra is getting married."

When that theory was put to rest, others developed.

"You think he's planning on moving on again?" Josiah wondered.

"Said he wouldn't leave. Bought land and he was talking about building a place. Can't see that he'd do that if he didn't plan on calling this home again." Vin wasn't close to being shocked at how his observation brought a smile to everyone.

"Well Chris, you'll be able to have that storage shed of yours back once we move his stuff out." Josiah laughed quietly as Chris tried to hide his surprise. "What, you think we believed that you'd just dump all of his stuff simply because he told you to when he sold the condo?"

"I don't think we can plan on moving anything or doing anything until he gives us the OK."

His tone quieted the room. "You think there's something wrong, don't you?" Vin hoped he was reading it wrong, but Chris nodded.

"We can only begin to imagine what he's been through, and to expect the old Ezra back may be asking too much."

"He's not fully recovered physically either," Nathan added.

Buck didn't see it that way. "I ain't denying he's not 100%. I mean we could all hear the rougher voice and see the limp. Kept his hand out of sight as much as possible too."

"It's not just the obvious that I'm talking about Buck. He might have other issues. Way he was treated, sick as he was after, there could be long term effects that he'll never get over."

"None of it really matters, does it." JD wasn't asking, he was telling them. "He came back here. He came back to his family. If there is anything else, then we deal with it. It's just that simple."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

The scream had Chris out of bed and halfway to the door before he even registered, he was up. He grabbed his jeans off the chair, stepping into them as he moved. He hesitated for the briefest of seconds before instinctively processing that he didn't need his gun as he made his way to Ezra's room. Sheer luck kept him from colliding with Buck as he charged from his own room at the back of the house, his robe flying like a cape behind him. Despite the speed, they were both behind Josiah, who was already at the side of the bed.

"Ezra, relax. Wake up Ezra. It's alright."

"Yes." The voice that answered him was breathless but controlled. The panicked tone that screamed out "No" seconds earlier was gone, but the trepidation showed the emotion was still strong. "I am aware." The gasping for breath slowed as a more regular rhythm took over. Ezra was still lying down, tangled in a mess of sheets. The pillows had landed on the floor, as had the quilt that covered him earlier. The night light he had alluded to earlier was brighter that Chris had expected, giving them all a clear view. Ezra may have thought he was under control, but the normally neutral face was anything but that now. His eyes were wide, almost spinning like some exaggerated cartoon. His brow shimmered with a glaze of sweat, and the tension lines on his face were deep.

"I cannot begin to express-"

"Save it. Only thing that that matters is that you know you're OK." Chris kept his voice level and low, struggling to make sure Ezra had no way of hearing how frightened he had been by that sound and what he was seeing now.

Whatever response he might have had in mind was stopped by the arrival of the rest of the team. Buck turned to silence them before they could speak. One look at his face told them all that they needed to know.

"Damn Buck." JD forced a laugh. "I'd've screamed too, seeing you in the middle of the night like that. If you're gonna wear the robe and nothing else, at least have the decency to tie it closed!"

"Gentlemen, I…" Ezra had no idea what he could possibly say. Josiah stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. He could feel the trembling and tension and pressed a bit firmer.

"Don't. Just catch your breath. I'll shoo this bunch away, and we'll have a little chat."

"That is not necessary." The look Ezra got in response told him none of them were about to accept that.

They were all half-heartedly stepping away before Josiah could chase them out. He stood in the doorway, speaking softly to them. "I've got this. Everybody just go back to bed and we can talk about it tomorrow."

"You mean later today." JD corrected automatically.

"You knew this was going to happen?" Chris figured that was the only reason he had been the first to scene. He had to have been waiting for it to happen.

"Not exactly knew, but let's call it a strong suspicion."

The glare was not unexpected. "You might have warned us."

"And had you all standing guard outside the door. That wouldn't have been productive." He smiled at the reluctant acceptance. "Go on. I'll talk to him." One by one they stepped away, Chris being the last to leave. He started to comment and decided there really was nothing more that needed to be said that Josiah didn't already know.

The big man quietly went back into the room, dragging a chair closer to the bed, but keeping a comfortable distance, allowing Ezra his space. He took a better look at the still obviously shaken man. He'd retrieved the quilt and pulled it up higher, adding another layer of protection between himself and the world. That was in addition to the pajama's and robe he'd been sleeping in. The house was warm this time of year, so the excess was clearly for security.

"Guessing it's been a while since you've had a nightmare?"

After licking his lips and making an aborted effort to answer, Ezra merely nodded. When there was silence, he quietly spoke. "Over three months. I thought I had defeated my subconscious."

"Can't be done. Just out of curiosity, do you usually sleep through the night?"

Again, he replied physically by shaking his head before speaking. "Not since this started."

"One more question. Do you remember your dreams? Not the nightmares, but just regular dreams?"

That was unexpected, and Ezra had to take a moment. "I can't really say that I do. I have a sense that I have had dreams, but the details are illusive." He looked up when Josiah didn't speak and was taken aback by the hint of a smile he saw. "I know you cannot possibly find this amusing, so I am left with the conclusion you find my state of mind a fascinating puzzle to resolve."

"No puzzle Ezra. It's really quite basic, and if you weren't in the middle of it all, I have no doubt you'd figure it out pretty quick."

The confidence in the face of his own uncertainty and insecurity was irritating. "As I am, as you succinctly stated, in the middle of this, would you care to elucidate for me?"

"I'll give you the nickel tour now. We can talk more tomorrow if you want. First thing is what I mentioned a minute ago. You don't beat your subconscious. It doesn't work that way. Once you know the problem, and work through it, then the subconscious will let it go. That's the only way to win, and I don't think you've really done that yet. Tonight was the real start on that."

"So the past months of counselling and evaluation have been, as I stated throughout the ordeal, a waste of time and energy."

"Hardly. I'm sure they've laid the groundwork that got you here, and ready for this. You needed to do that step. See, I'd bet that the reason you don't sleep all night is that you are waking up before the dreams turn on you. Your brain is saying it's not ready to deal with what's in that next part of the dream, so suddenly you are wide awake."

"I can deal with the memories, so why would I not deal with the dreams – or nightmares?"

"Because they're not memories. They're exaggerations. They're next stage. They are the deepest 'what might have happened' moments. If I were to guess, I'd say when you were having them you weren't alone in them. That was the reality. In the nightmares, others were there – watching and not helping. Maybe even hurting you further. They manifested the guilt – which I don't need to point out is misplaced – that you felt over Nathan's injury. Over what happened to the team."

Ezra stared again. He was both angered and relieved to know that his psyche could be so easily read.

The dreams that he denied recalling were, to a point, quite clear in his mind. He was with either some or all of his friends in almost each one. Working, socializing, riding, playing cards. Just together. Then they would disappear; sometimes fading out, sometimes just vanishing. Taylor took their place. Even when he appeared faceless, there was no doubt it was him. And the repetition of his imprisonment was acted out again. Some nights, it was exactly as he remembered the events. Others, there were six observers, standing by silently one moment, and the next urging Taylor on. The worst nights were when Taylor's face appeared on the bodies of his friends. Their voices and mannerisms taunted and berated him, as a repeat of the tortures played out.

"Ezra? Ezra, talk to me."

He had no idea he had zoned out on Josiah until he snapped back to the present and saw the deep concern. "You know me far better than anyone should."

"Really? Because most of the time I feel I don't really understand you at all."

"Your accuracy in this case is – unsettling." One question burned in his mind, but he wasn't at all certain he wanted an answer to it. But if Josiah was right that he still had a lot of healing to do (and he could see no reason now to deny that), it had to be asked. "So why tonight? Here, in an environment when I should feel safe – did feel safe – why would that change?"

Another smile prefaced the reply. "Precisely because you do feel safe. These nightmares needed to come out. To have all of the issues and fears and guilt worked through. But you weren't ready, no matter how much you thought you were. Here, now, with your family around you, your mind didn't need to block those feelings. It didn't need to wake you up, so it let them come. And, like a dam breaking, they came a full force."

"Making my humiliation complete."

Josiah's smile faded. "You weren't listening. There is no humiliation here. No shame. Ezra, you just paid us all the highest compliment possible. Certainly one of the best I've ever had. You trust us that much. It may be a concept that has taken years for you to get to, but this shows more faith in us than you've likely had in anyone. Got to say, I'm damned proud to be a part of that. The others are gonna feel the same."

It was an explanation he wasn't ready to accept – yet. Maybe he could get there. After all, he wouldn't have thought a few months ago that he would come as far back as he already had. But if it was the explanation Josiah could share with the others, and if it could help move past this moment, he was willing to concede the possibility it was right. He had so much to gain if he could convince himself of that.

"Don't overthink it Ezra. And don't just say yes because you think it's what I want to hear. The physical healing is only part of the road back, and tough as that has been, it may have been the easy part. But the difference is, you don't have to go through it alone. You know that, or you wouldn't have done everything you have to get here. Give us the chance to walk the rest of the journey with you."

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

_**tbc**_


	23. Chapter 23

Vin had to fight to keep himself from rubbing his eyes when he walked into the stables in the morning. He looked down at his watch, certain he had somehow misread the time.

"No, you are correct. It is just shortly past 7 a.m." Ezra's voice sounded remarkably more chipper than he would have expected to hear at such a time. In fact, he never would have expected to hear it this early, chipper or otherwise.

"Physiotherapy, and other habits, have somewhat adjusted my usual routine. And to be completely honest, lazing about in bed has lost a great deal of it's previous appeal."

Not wanting to dwell on the multiple factors that went into that thought, Vin changed the subject. "You and Chaucer getting reacquainted?"

"I am endeavouring to ascertain whether he is willing to forgive my abandonment and extended absence. He can be quite tenacious on matters which he sees as a transgression or personal affront."

"I don't know. I'd bet he's just glad to have you back. And feeling good. You are feeling good – right?"

Ezra stopped his brushing, which earned him a gentle reprimand from Chaucer, which he apologized for with the traditional peppermint bribe. "There is no reason for you, or the others, to be concerned. I assure you, there is no underlying secrecy to my return. No revelation that will unsettle or disturb."

"You can't blame us for worrying. All this time with nothing but emails, texts or letters, and suddenly you walk through the door without warning."

"I understand. And I cannot begin to tell you how much I appreciate the infinite patience you have all demonstrated over the past months. Dear God, close to a year. It is more than I expected, and no doubt much more than was deserved. I hope in some small way over the fullness of time to be able to properly demonstrate how much that has meant."

"That's what the money is about?" Vin wasn't thrilled by the idea that Ezra might have thought he could buy them off, or that he needed to.

"Good heavens, no. No offering could compensate, and to propose that I would undertake to repay my indebtedness in such an avaricious manner would be repulsive." Vin may not have understood every word, but the meaning was clear.

"Ezra, we want you back here. Have since the day you left. Don't care about how, or why, or anything else. Only thing that matters is that this is where you want to be and what you want as well."

Picking up the brush again, Ezra resumed his grooming regime, much to Chaucer's delight. "If that is all that matters, then the discussion is closed. Now, I presume that breakfast awaits shortly. Then perhaps, if time and scheduling permit, we might have a brief morning ride. It has been some time since such a simple pleasure has been a part of my routine."

Vin nodded, turning to leave. "I'll let the others know you're out here. They won't believe me, so don't be surprised if they come to see for themselves."

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

"Ezra, you sure this is a good idea? After the travelling and all, maybe you should wait another day or two before riding." Nathan remained unconvinced that this was a wise plan.

"The day I am incapable of an undemanding excursion in the countryside with good companions in a familiar saddle on a steadfast steed is the day I shall secure myself into a small padded room and ensure the key is permanently destroyed."

"I believe that means he wants to go riding Nathan, so let's all saddle up." Buck swung himself up, joining the others who were ready to head out. Vin had brought Chaucer out to the corral, after assuring the gear was fit. No matter how habituated Ezra might be to preparing for a ride, doing the task one-handed would be more than a challenge. He had to admit, the job was pretty close to being perfect, and only a bit of tightening had been needed. He would have loved to ask how the task had been accomplished, but the inferences in the question would have cast a pall that wasn't needed today.

Ezra stepped up beside Chaucer, knowing all eyes were on him, even if they tried to appear nonchalant about it. He knew how quickly they would be at his side at the first hint of trouble, and he focused his mind on ensuring that didn't happen. With a softly whispered, 'don't let me down old friend' in Chaucer's ear, Ezra grabbed the horn, placed a foot in the stirrup and with only a little more effort than he'd needed in the past, swung himself up as if it was a routine that he did every day of his life. He swayed ever so slightly before finding his balance, picking up the reins and gently nudging Chaucer forward. He looked back, realizing he was alone in his movement.

"Gentlemen, the horses shall not get any exercise if you remain motionless. Are we riding, or posing for statues?"

7-7-7-7-7-7-7

There was no power on earth that would persuade Ezra to admit how tired he was when they settled into the comfort of the patio chairs following lunch. The ride, and the related activities after had been more draining than he had imagined. Certainly more than he recalled from past such outings. To let on that he was feeling it would have negated everything he was hoping to prove by today's actions, so he fought through.

Lunch was a bit of an ordeal as well. Much more on the table than he was used to. He still was unaccustomed to a large meal, finding the process of swallowing that much remained more of a challenge than he would like. He tried eating slowly, hoping they wouldn't notice, and was relieved when no comments were made.

"I would have assumed you would have more guests here on a Sunday Chris. Owners visiting the ranch to check on their horses should be a weekend ritual, should it not?"

"Usually. I had JD send out emails to everyone saying we were closed up today, and we'd take care of the stables. Didn't really want a bunch of strangers intruding."

"Not exactly the optimum manner of running your operation."

"Anyone doesn't like it they can let me know. Family is always more important than business. Day that changes, I close this down."

"And are you expecting any other company today?" The question seemed casual enough, but there was enough soft anxiety to make Chris glad he had the answer he was sure Ezra wanted.

"Not today. Won't lie to you Ezra, we did let folks know you are back. But, we also told them there will be a party out here next Friday night. Until then, you've got yourself time to get settled and used to the idea of being here again. You may get a few messages, but you can deal with those at your own pace."

A small nod and half salute indicated the relief at that response.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, enjoying the quiet and comfortable silence that can only be shared by good friends. As was to be expected though, it didn't last.

"So Ezra, you need to take a nap, or do something for your throat before we can get around to having that chat we mentioned last night?"

He should have known they would notice, although Buck pointing it out was not what he'd expected. "I am perfectly capable of proceeding with whatever afternoon plans you have in mind."

"Sure you are." Chris didn't bother even pretending to hide his skepticism. "Should we put bets on how long you can stay awake?"

"Please do. I still enjoy a sure thing."

"OK, cards on the table then. I can't speak for the others, but for myself – I don't want your money Ezra."

"It is not my money. It is yours. My actions, my claim, was designed with that goal in mind from the beginning."

"So if it had just been you, you wouldn't have sued them?" JD asked.

"No, I likely would have undertaken action regardless, but not to the extent that I sought to recover."

Buck doubted he'd get an answer but had to ask. "Eight zeros. That's what you said last night. You went in asking for 100 million dollars?"

"Without confirming that, I will say that we live in litigious times. The sum was proposed by the brilliant strategist who was my legal counsel. She was far more than I dared hope for. A significant figure was required to ensure I had their undivided attention in order to make my point concerning the massive miscarriage of justice. I can assure you I did not expect to come anywhere close to that sum, or even to the final offer that was made."

"I gotta say Hoss, you are one special kind of crazy."

"There are few who would dispute that."

Chris decided to try to regain control of the discussion. "Point is Ezra, you didn't need to. We were fine with what we had, and you don't have to be buying your way back in."

"Like you said Chris – you don't speak for all of us." JD's words were surprising. "Not about buying your way back Ezra – you know that. Hell, we'd take you without a penny to your name. But I was never fine with what happened and how things ended. It sucked. We got screwed, and I'm not just saying that because my severance was less than all of yours. You all had more experience, so that made sense. But I **am** glad to see the idiots get some of what's coming to them on this."

"Gotta say I agree with the kid." Buck was grinning. "The money is nice but knowing that the people who wanted us gone are sitting with egg on their faces – that feels even better."

Chris was left speechless by the reactions. He looked to the others, getting slow nods from all of them.

"They're right Pard. It's not the money. I'd be just as happy to donate it all to some charity. Knowing that someone paid for what happened, and that maybe that will make them think twice about leaving someone out in the field like that again – that's the satisfaction."

Nathan was equally adamant. "Sadly, it's the only thing the bureaucrats get – when you hit them in the 'bottom-line'. Takes someone with Ezra's special kind of nerve to see that, and to pull this off, and I'm glad he did. I'm also thinking this kind of money could go a long way to setting up the kind of treatment clinic I was talking about working in once I finish my physio training. Could do a lot of good with this much of a nest egg. Would that be okay with you Ezra?"

"My permission is not required. It is no longer my money. As I said, to my mind it never was. But I do concur that it is a brilliant use of the funds, and the type of operation that would make an excellent charitable contribution for a corporate interest to look into, should the need arise."

"Guess I read all of you wrong." Chris leaned back. "Here I thought all along it was just my pigheadedness keeping me pissed off with the world. Had no clue you all felt the same."

"Excellent! The matter is settled then." Ezra felt the relief overtake him like a wave. He had expected far more of a challenge on this, and to discover that the desire for further justice was an underlying bond was reassuring. Now, if part two of his plan went as well, he would finally be able to put all of this behind him.

"Your comments and apparently sublimated resentment of all that happened have provided a foundation for support of a further conclusion I have suspected for some time. In as much as I am aware you have been making reasonably discreet efforts to monitor my activities." He paused to focus his stare on JD.

"What? I've been behaving." There was a moment of silence. "OK, but I stopped short of hacking into medical records or anything like that. Just wanted to make sure we could be ready if you need us is all. Sue me."

"I wouldn't suggest that if I was you kid. He's likely to do it!"

"Rest assured, I expected such scrutiny, and was impressed by the restraint demonstrated. As I am both impressed by, and grateful for the restraint you have all demonstrated since my totally unfair and inappropriate departure." He held up his left hand to silence the objections. "While I may have pretended that my motives were noble and my explanation was valid, I was once again lying to all of us, including myself. I was running, pure and simple. It took me some time for that truth to become apparent. The visit from mother was the catalyst to start my journey towards that revelation, so I suppose a small debt is owed."

"Ezra," JD was tentative, "if you figured it out that far back, why didn't you let us know?"

"I indicated the journey began at that point. It was some time until I was able to accept that – and other – realities." He paused, looking away from making eye contact. These truths were much harder to deal with than he had expected. "I knew that my distance, both literal and figurative, was an unjustifiable punishment to inflict on you. It would undoubtedly exacerbate feelings of guilt and strain your good natures. I started on any number of occasions to reach out but could not complete the plan. I wanted – needed – to be whole again before facing you. It was only when I finally realized that fantasy was never going to be achieved to my satisfaction that I was able to have my epiphany. Regardless of the physical recovery matters, I could not hope to be whole again if I was not with my friends – my family. That was when I began to plan my return."

"Well it damn sure took you long enough! We've been trying to tell you that all along." Buck's smile took the sting out of his rebuke.

"Assuredly. But as Chris will no doubt confirm, I can be a remarkable obstinate individual at times."

"I think I may have pointed that out once or twice."

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

**tbc**


	24. Chapter 24

Ezra took a moment to sip on his drink before moving past the awkwardness he felt. "To return to my earlier referenced conclusion, I must confess to monitoring your activities. The tasks you have undertaken are all laudable, and your goals are truly impressive. Although as he has stated, young JD is clearly less than happy with his new career, and I expect is chomping at the bit for a more challenging and suitable endeavour."

"Well, I have been working on creating a database. I keep thinking about the time we wasted while trying to find you Ezra. Hack- I mean looking into all the records of all the agencies and bureaus and registries and so on. There has to be a better way to consolidate all of that into one base that any of them can access. The time it saves could be the difference between life and death."

"If that is where you wish to focus your energy, then that is the path you should take. Just as counselling and therapy seem to be the avenues selected by Josiah and Nathan. And returning to the land for rest."

"You know Chris," Nathan had been thinking, "maybe we could use the ranch as part of the physiotherapy. Riding is a good exercise, and we could set up a program out here."

"That's good Nathan." Josiah took up the idea. "It might also be a good fit for some of the kids in my troubled teens group. Giving them something to focus on outside their own issues. This kind of money would make it easy to work out the details."

"I suppose that could work. Maybe even some kind of wilderness camping deal thrown in. Vin, that sounds like it would be up your alley."

When Vin didn't answer Chris, they all turned to look at him, but he ignored them. His focus was on Ezra.

"You seem to have figured it all out Ezra. How we can move forward. What's going to be best of us. So, tell me. Just where do you fit in with all of this? And you damn well better have an answer for that unless you want to see six pissed off faces looking back at you."

"Me? Well, I will have to apply my efforts toward finding, or perhaps designing a residence. And of course there is still some physical recovery ahead."

"Not what I meant. What about your dreams? Your plans for a life now?"

Chris could see it now. There was a desperation in Ezra he hadn't noted before. Maybe it was better hidden when the man wasn't as tired as he appeared, or maybe it was just a matter of having someone actually ask.

"You came here with an idea, didn't you?"

"I am not certain it can be called an idea. More likely a pipedream."

"That's how most good things start son. What did you have in mind?"

Ezra reached out for the glass of ice water on the table beside him, stopping when he could feel his hand was shaking. He knew he needn't be nervous, but suddenly it felt as if his entire future was on the line.

"There is a matter that needs to be addressed before I present that to you. If you will indulge me." He waited as they settled back, showing they were more than willing to hear whatever he needed to say.

"You have all been more that patient in refraining from asking the one question you desperately want answered, although you have skirted around the issue. My health. Please, save your protests. With what has happened, and with what I will be suggesting, you have the right for full disclosure. You have that right regardless of any other factors, simply by your designation as friends.

As I have stated, the experts were accurate in their prognosis; most of my issues have been resolved. Yes, you are correct in noting that I do still tire more easily than I once did, although that is less problematic than it was. The damage to my heart is controlled now, and other organs have thankfully resumed their full function.

The leg injury is, for the most part, an annoyance rather than a hindrance. The cane was for some time a requirement but is now mostly an affectation. It is also an indulgence. My derringer, which had basically come an extension of my being, is no longer a viable option for me. While it can be used left-handed, and has been adjusted for that purpose as a precautionary measure, in that capacity it serves more as a reminder of what was, rather than being the indemnification it had been. Still, I have grown accustomed to having a secreted weapon at my disposal, and with that thought in mind, commissioned the design of a 22-calibre cane. The firing mechanism is camouflaged in the handle, and like the derringer, it will fire two shots."

"Son of a bitch – that is awesome Ez." Buck struggled against the desire to get up to find the weapon and examine it immediately, as did the others.

"It is what it needs to be.

You can all hear that the dulcet tones in my voice are not exactly what they once were, but the satisfaction of speaking was restored, and for that I remain grateful. There remains damage, and I continue to proceed with the treatments that will, eventually, limit the restrictions I still face. Once those are addressed, I look forward to a large steak dinner.

Then there is the obvious. You have all cast glances at my hand and have obviously noted that there has been no miracle there. I wear the glove for two reasons. It acts as a support, a form of brace if you will. And it prevents me, and spares others, from seeing the scars. Both those from Taylor and from the surgeries that have been done."

Josiah interrupted gently. "I thought you were going to let us know if you were having medical procedures done."

"I believe I promised to keep you notified regarding major decisions on the process. These do not qualify. Despite the advice given, I refused to allow for the recommended course. I could not bring myself to allow them to –" he hesitated, still having difficulty considering the possibility. "to remove the hand. Instead, I have had three surgeries done to date. The advances with grafting of bones, surgical pins and artificial tendons are impressive."

He paused, telling himself this next step was necessary. He withdrew his right hand from his pocket, and slowly reached to remove the glove.

Chris was the first to see what was coming. "You don't have to –"

"Yes, I do." He pulled of the glove, not looking up for fear of seeing the reaction to injuries.

"Damn Ezra. You had us scared. That doesn't look all that bad." JD winced slightly as he spoke, fearing his words weren't saying what he felt. He had expected to be sickened and was instead genuinely surprised at how minimal the scarring was. It was obvious work had been done, but the incisions were neat and clean, not the Frankenstein mess he had anticipated.

But Nathan knew exactly what Ezra was feeling. He felt the same every time he saw the scars on his leg from his own surgeries, and it had taken some time for him to accept that they were nowhere near as bad as he perceived them.

"Ez, you had great surgeons. I know what this must seem like to you but trust me when I tell you that is some impressive work they've done."

"You still in pain?" Vin's could not possibly care less about the appearance.

"Some. There will be more, as there are two more procedures planned, followed by another of a cosmetic nature in a faint hope of camouflaging some of this. There will always be a degree of discomfort, but I have learned techniques to deal with it."

He looked up and saw the support he could already feel from them all. It made the next step easier. "There is a reason I wanted you – needed you – to see this. It was the lead in for the next phase." He turned to face Chris. "You used one of my favorite expressions earlier – putting all of one's cards on the table. I believe the time has come to do precisely that."

Reaching into his pocket with his left hand, he pulled out a deck of cards and turned them out onto the table, then picked them up. Slowly, and with what was literally painful deliberation, he took a cluster of cards with his right hand and began a gentle, carefully paced shuffle. He managed only four passes before he had to stop, but that was enough to bring on several seconds of silence before the whoops and applause began.

Buck was the loudest. "Damn it Ezra, why did you keep that secret for so long?"

"That was amazing son. Knew you had it in you."

"I was wrong – those doctors of yours are beyond great!"

Ezra's voice was soft, and somewhat resigned. "It is doubtful there will be any significant advance from this point. Perhaps a minute amount of increased dexterity, but I cannot say that it will be noticeable. The day is unlikely to come when I can do up a simple button, or even use a keypad without the aid of some sort of assistance device. But, it is still my hand, and for that I am grateful."

Vin reached out and took the cards. "You didn't have to do that Ezra. It clearly hurt. You should have just said something."

Chris was equally concerned. "He's right. You don't have a damned thing to prove to us – now or ever. You understand that?"

"Yes, I did. I do. If I am going to go ahead with what I want to say, to propose, you need to know that while I may not be 100 percent, or even close, I am still capable of functioning."

It would have been easy to challenge the idea they had ever doubted that, but it would have also been a waste of time. Time that they didn't have, as Chris was sure the strain of all of this was exhausting Ezra far beyond what he was used to.

"OK, let's just accept that none of us question that. Are you ready to answer Vin's question? What is it that you want to do?"

_M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7_

_**tbc**_

Author's note_**:** as with previous legal issues, I do not claim to be an expert on surgical issues. But a friend who is much better versed on these matters than I am assures me that such advances in recovery as I have described for Ezra are possible. She gave me technical data, but I have spared you that cure for insomnia. _


	25. Chapter 25

It was time. Now or never, and Ezra hoped the biggest gamble he'd taken in quite a while was going to payoff.

"You all have skills that serve you well outside of what you have spent recent years doing. Counselling, computer programming, even ranching. Your adaption to civilian life appears to have been, if not ideal, certainly less than traumatic, even though it may not have been a path any of you expected to take. Whereas my unique assortment of character flaws, on the other hand, fail to translate as nearly as well. I have tried to develop a scenario that would accommodate my natural abilities for finding trouble, my chameleon-like nature and my innate gift for deception. Needless to say, few things fit within those requirements, short of returning to the less honourable life I led in my formative years."

"You're back to underestimating yourself I see." Josiah tone left no question as to his frustration with the analysis. "Why not point out your ability to solve problems instead of finding trouble."

"Adapting quickly is a lot better description than chameleon tendencies." Nathan added.

"And can any of you device a more acceptable term for 'my innate gift for deception'?"

Chris smiled. "I used to call that 'creative thinking' when I had to write up reports. Those so called character flaws of yours are the traits that made you one hell of an agent Ezra."

"Possibly. I will concede, it was a career that I was acutely suited for. Which leads me closer to the answer you seek. But my path is one I do not see being able to take as a solo venture. The way I have envisioned it, in order to have any expectation of success, there would have to be several other parties involved.

For example: I would need the aid of someone well-versed in computer skills, an area in which I am profoundly underqualified. Someone who could keep up with the changing times and options that world offers. Additionally, someone who understands the human psyche with that same analytical approach is all but essential to the endeavour. It would be of immense value to have a member of the group with an understanding of the streets. Someone who has come from the poverty and hardships of that environment and can help me overcome the prejudices my own upbringing has conditioned my to in those areas."

Ezra wanted to plow ahead, not allowing time for anyone to start laughing at the lunacy of what they had to have deduced by now, but his mouth had gone dry. He took a gulp of water, nearly choking in the process, before continuing.

"Practical skills that I don't possess would be needed as well. Someone who has a natural gift for tracking people; who can read the terrain, be it urban or rural. I also find I don't always have the skill to charm and beguile, although I am not totally lacking. But often I find it requires more effort than I am willing to make. Someone to whom those tendencies are second nature, a fundamental part of his nature, would be invaluable."

Nathan took over, worried as he watched Ezra growing more anxious with each word. "So, there are five 'types' you would need for your little group of – what? Sounds to me like you're putting together some kind of team of investigators." He smiled, hoping it would relax Ezra. It didn't.

"Six actually. The sixth is in many ways the most important. This group would need the guidance of someone with the natural ability to lead and turn this assemblage into a cohesive and inexorable force. Someone who inspires loyalty and faith simply by his presence. In any other circumstance, I would think he would be the most difficult person to find."

Chris stood, pacing in a manner indicating he was thinking things through, even though he knew exactly what he wanted to say next. "I have to say I think it is the 7th member of this team that would make it complete. Those skills you listed are all important, no two ways about it. And for the record, that 6th fella would have to be a bit crazy to take on the job of riding herd over the others, but let's put that aside for the moment. What that bunch needs to make it complete – make it really work – is someone who can think outside the box when in comes to planning things."

Buck soundly slapped the table. "You've got that right Cowboy. I'd say a real unique perspective on things is definitely needed. Along with that guy with all the charm of course."

"Well, while I agree that the ability to interpret the human psyche is valuable, knowing how to read people, when they're lying or nervous or hiding something – well that would be something special too."

"Of course it would Josiah. Much more than just being able to punch a few keys on a computer. Big difference between finding information and figuring out what to do with it." JD was bursting with an enthusiasm he hadn't felt in far too long.

Vin crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat as he watched Ezra try with marginal success to maintain his stoic poker face. It was a lost cause, as his fatigue and the emotions of the day were sabotaging the effort. "So, I'd have to say we have seven men right here who fit the bill, don't you think Ez?"

Knowing his voice would crack for reasons that had nothing to do with his health, Ezra merely nodded. He slowly emptied his glass, stalling to collect himself before proceeding.

"In no way would I expect this effort to interfere with your other interests or passions. We would assuredly be able to select only cases which genuinely intrigue us. Missing persons, wrongfully accused..." he faded off slightly.

"People who have been wronged and need a bit of justice?" Vin finished the thought for him.

"Yes, that would be another worthy avenue to follow. We can dedicate ourselves only to whatever piques our curiosity, as financial gain would not be the motivation."

"Wow, who have thought I'd live to hear the day Ezra Standish would make such a claim?" Nathan winked broadly.

"Yeah, none of those divorce cases or crap like that. We could do exciting stuff, like corporate espionage."

"JD, you've been stuck in the academic world too long if that has become your definition of what's exciting." Buck reprimanded. "Or maybe this is what comes from you living in Nettie's basement. Maybe you need to move out of there now that you have the cash."

"Well, living on my own doesn't really appeal to me. Now, if I could find a roommate somewhere..." He grinned conspiratorially at Buck. "Someone who could educate me on what's exciting."

Chris laughed. "Great - looks like I either need to build onto this place or give up one of my hired hands."

Folding his hands in front of him on the table, left covering right, Ezra looked up with his own conspiratorial smile. "I believe there is a fair bit of space on the Paxton property for more than one home to be built. Merely a suggestion, you understand."

Buck and JD high-fived each other, while Vin moaned quietly. "So much for things being quiet around here."

It was time to get back to the discussion. "I'd guess Judge Travis might be able to pitch in from time to time with some legal advice and such. Think he'd enjoy dabbling in the law again." Chris took his seat again, next to Ezra. "Sounds like you've thought this through. I'm betting you've already looked into licensing and all that goes with it?"

"A wise gamble on your part."

"All registered under your numbered company?"

Ezra looked shocked. "No. This would not be my business. It would be ours. We function as a group, or we do not function at all."

"Fair enough. What's first?"

It was real. This was going to happen, and Ezra was caught off guard by how reassuring that bit of knowledge was. "Well, there are legal documents to be signed, of course. I have presumed to take the liberty to have them drafted, but any changes you wish to make are welcomed."

"We don't need that. Just tell us where to sign."

"That kind of blind trust is unbecoming to an investigative unit, gentlemen. Perhaps some training in procedure should be undertaken."

Buck shook his head sternly. "No way. Done with classes the moment I put down that badge."

"You didn't happen to come up with a name or anything for this bunch, did you?"

Ezra actually blushed, ever so slightly. "Well, Vin, now that you broach the matter." He reached into his pocket again, this time retrieving a business card and placing it on the centre of the table. Seven silhouetted men on horseback lined the card, with a faint watermarked image of an old-fashioned sheriff's badge as background. Beneath it two words were imprinted – The Seven.

Chris smiled. "I like your confidence. And the name. Simple. To the point."

"Yeah," Buck agreed. "When you've got skills, you don't need flash."

Vin picked it up, studying it. "I don't know. Got the feeling there is something missing there." He put it down, looking satisfied with the outcome of the conversation. "But we'll figure that out too."

Ezra raised his glass in a toast. "Yes, together I don't imagine there is anything we cannot accomplish."

**M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7**

_**The end (or is it the beginning?)**_

_Author's final notes: Thank you all for your patience and kind words. I had my doubts along the way, more with this than with any other story I've done. Your encouragement kept me going. And a nod to the readers who seem to be able to read my mind and know what is in the next chapter before I post it. I'll have to get sneakier in the future. _

_And thanks for the critiques as well. They do help me rethink and sometimes restructure things. This had turned into much more that I expected when the first scene popped into my head. I don't recall having so much trouble with a piece as I have had with parts of this, and your wonderful and thoughtful reviews were an enormous help._

_I know this story could keep going, and maybe (probably) it will in the future. Ezra's ongoing recovery, his reunion with the others, business dealings - and more? - with Inez. And of course, the new adventure for all of them. I had thought that I would carry on in this variation of the ATF AU, but this saga has exhausted that energy, at least for the moment. I need a little while away from it. Time to get back to the 1920's story I am working on, along with 3 OW and 2 ATF pieces. In the meantime, if anyone else wants to have a go at our millionaire detectives, either for short stories or epic novels, please do. If you want to contact me first - not necessary, but appreciated - again, please do. _


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